


Light my Fire

by BeholdIAmDeath



Series: Pain is Love [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Tragedy, Baby, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bad Decisions, Bad Parenting, Crowley Being an Asshole, F/M, Face Punching, Face Slapping, Falling In Love, Growing Up, Lab Sex, Love Triangles, Love/Hate, Macabre, Parent Crowley, Pseudo-Incest, Rating: M, Ratings: R, S&M, Stabbing, Tragedy, Triggers, Unrequited Love, graphic birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-03-26
Packaged: 2018-01-17 02:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 39,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1371307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeholdIAmDeath/pseuds/BeholdIAmDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Did you honestly think Azazel was the only one doing human experiments? Please, Crowley's been looking for a human brat that could survive the trip to Hell and back for centuries. When he finds the perfect candidate, he makes her into a perfect weapon. Or does he?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm back, but under a new name.   
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Supernatural franchise. If I did, this shit would so be canon.

From outside, the Leatherby RV was neither unique nor impressive. It was an old, faded white color with dark green racing stripes and a mossy green roof that was haphazardly painted on. Anyone could have walked past it at any given time and never guessed the secret it held within its rain-stained walls. Unfortunately for the Winchester boys, those secrets had been discovered by a druggie and then by the local police. That's when Bobby called them in to look into it. The Winchester boys had known Mr. and Mrs. Leatherby since their early youth. They were hunters, but they kept a low profile. Most hunters didn't realize the Leatherby's were hunters until it was staring them in the face. So...how the Hell did this happen to them? Who found them? Who ratted them out? There couldn't have been any other possible explanation.

With unsteady sighs, the brothers climbed out of the Impala and pulled a few "essentials" from the trunk before heading towards the scene of the crime where they were met half-way by the local police. This one was from the Sheriff's office and reminded Dean of Barney from the Andy Griffith Show reruns he and Sammy used to watch in that very trailer with Mr. Leatherby. Old man always was a sucker for the classics.

"Hey there," Dean said, putting on his hoity-toity smile while flashing his fake badge. "I'm Agent Thomas, and this is Agent Hiddleston. We're with the FBI."

"I ain't surprised," the officer said, sighing and wiping the sweat from his brow. He looked pretty damn overwhelmed. "It's pretty gruesome in there. Real sicko had to 'ave done this'n. It's all yours, guys. Ain't even worth a fight if ya ask me."

"What can you tell us about the murder?" Sam asked in his usual, more compassionate tone.

The officer chuckled humorlessly. "You'll 'ave ta see this'n fer yourselves. Never seen anythin' like it."

"Try us," Dean said, pulling his metaphorical man-card. They really didn't have time for this dude's wimpy psyche.

"You're gonna need body bags. A lotta body bags. Sicko makes Jack the Ripper look like ma wife."

"Damn. Sounds fun," the eldest Winchester groaned as he ducked under the crime scene tape and approached the door, where a rather green-around-the-gills officer stood aside to allow them to enter. That was never a good sign. Neither were the relieved looks the officers had when they were told they were home-free. Then again, this was a small town. Maybe they just weren't used to seeing death staring back up at you.

Upon closer inspection of the RV's exterior, Dean noticed sigils. Sigils of every breed make and model. Sam and Dean did a pretty thorough thrice-over just to be sure it wasn't just a sloppy clear coat job. Salt, silver and iron were ingrained into the door and windows too. Their porch lights made baseball fields jealous with their brightness. What the Hell were they up against then? It couldn't be your run of the mill demon, monster or angel. Was this something they had never encountered before? Just thinking about it made Dean's head pound. That's just what they needed, a new monster. The interior of the RV was fairly standard – one large window with heavy drapes, and two smaller side windows where the curtains didn't quite meet. There was a door that likely led to the bedroom, and there was a curtain that hid the latrine from no one. The latrine itself had to be decorated by the Mrs. herself. No man in their right mind would allow so many flowers and...rubber duckies. The rest of it was like the ultimate man cave. Weapons were hung from every nook and cranny like trophies, and they had every game system and junk food known to man. Oddly enough, there was a pricey oak dinning table that had been set for six in there. There was even fancy food set out: turkey, cranberry sauce and a pie. The chair at the end of the table was empty, but the other five were...occupied. At least, Dean thought they were occupied.

"It's like the goddamn Bates Family reunion," Dean snapped, breaking the shocked silence.

They were used to most stuff, but this was different. They knew these people. No, they loved these people. These people were fucking family. In the chairs were the bloody, gooey remains of five people. Judging by the blood-and-entrails-drenched clothing, it was the Mr. and Mrs. and their three boys. Each was coated in a thin layer of pus and decay. Each of the Winchesters on command could draw up happy memories with each member of the family. The boys made tree-limb forts with Jimmy, Danny, and Donnie. Mrs. Leatherby made the best pecan pie ever, and Mr. Leatherby was like a goddamn surrogate father when their dad was off on trips doing God knows what. How could anyone do this? Why would anyone do this?! These were good people. They didn't deserve to go like this.

"This isn't right," Sam declared and blushed when Dean turned to glare at him as if he cursed in front of their mother. "Well, it isn't!" He paused. "Why would anyone do this? I-It had to be a pers-"

"Don't!" Dean snapped. "Just...just go check the bedroom."

Sam walked away without saying anything else. He knew better than to piss Dean off at a time like this. It was better to let him brood by himself than try to console him. When he stepped into the bedroom, he was kinda shocked. It was immaculate, and there were tons of filing cabinets and maps. On the maps there were thousands of sticky notes in assorted shapes and colors, newspaper clippings and red and yellow push pins. Sam got closer to the map when his leg bumped a desk. A picture frame fell over onto his shoe and cracked the frame's glass. Sam swore and bent down to pick it up when he noticed its contents. It was a framed surveillance photo of the back of a woman's silhouette. She was wearing a dark trench coat and a hat that covered her face well. The Hell were they up to?

He dug through the stacks of paper on the desk until he found a laptop and opened it, searching through the history. Maybe they left clues as to what they were looking for or what killed them. They had to. There was no sign of forced entry. There was a site for horror junkies called: the Beyond Human. It was about the only living human to go in and out of Hell and survive the trip. There was something else. A chat site for Shakespeare fans? None of the Leatherbys but the Mrs. were big book fans. They had been talking a lot with someone called "DemonicMuse". Was that the woman in the picture? Or their killer? Maybe he could talk to the user and find out.

He plugged in his phone and started copying all the files in the laptop while he started typing in his chat. He'd have to make it sound convincing like he was Mrs. Leatherby. That way, he'd be able to find out whether or not this was their killer.

_MerCUTIEo+4 is online._

_MerCUTIEo+4: Hello, DM. Sorry I've been away._

Bambi heard her laptop chime from where she was in the hotel bathroom. She was almost finished getting the blood out of her hair, so she hurriedly rinsed it out and dashed to the bed. There was a notification from the Shakespeare fan website. Odd. She never posted anything, and she was only in contact with her family. The whole reason she made the profile was to lure them in. She tensed. A chat from MerCUTIEo+4? Impossible! She killed them two days ago.

_DemonicMuse is online._

_DemonicMuse: Who the hell are you?_

_MerCUTIEo+4: It's me._

_DemonicMuse: That's impossible. Who the hell is this? How did you find that username?_

_MerCUTIEo+4: Funny you'd say that. We're in the RV. Who are you?_

Shit! Some asshole cop was probably trying to trace her location. Then again...he had told her to watch out for hunters that pretended to be the authorities so they could look at the crime scene. Just to be safe, Bambi logged on to a WiFi hotspot at the Wendy's across the street. If it was the cops, she'd know.

_DemonicMuse: Guilty. Who are you?_

_MerCUTIEo+4: What are you?_

Bambi relaxed. She could handle a loose-cannon hunter. Smiling, she fished the disk from her bag and put it into her laptop. It was a virus that would completely wipe their laptop's hard drive. They would never see or find anything that could link her face to the murder. She needed to stall to give the virus time to search out that specific account though. She had to keep them talking.

_DemonicMuse: Ah, you must be hunters. I'm a hunter too...I hunt your kind. Isn't that just juicy? I know the Leatherby family thinks so._

_MerCUTIEo+4: Why did you kill them?_

_DemonicMuse: They made the first move._

_MerCUTIEo+4: What?_

_DemonicMuse: Checkmate._

_MerCUTIEo+4: Can we meet?_

A window popped up. The virus was ready for her to initiate. Bambi smirked and clicked "YES." Another window popped up in its place. Lines upon lines of code started to flash on her screen. Mission complete. Bambi left her spot on the bed and returned to the bathroom. She needed to burn her bloody clothes before she washed the rest of the caked blood from her skin.

_DemonicMuse is offline._

Suddenly, the screen went black. Dean got an uneasy feeling as he watched Sam scramble to unplug his phone. Lime green text started flashing over the screen in a mix of numbers, letters and symbols. Dear God, the thing was possessed. Was that even possible? Did Sammy know how to do an exorcism on computers? Then the screen turned blue and started to make a high-pitch squealing noise. The keyboard started steaming then as the text vanished. The computer was fried...and they had no more information than what they started with. All they knew was that this DemonicMuse dick was behind the murders.

"Son of a bitch!"

"Calm down, Dean."

"We had him, Sammy! He was right there!"

"Hold on," Sam grumbled as he started to click away at his phone. "Got it."

"Got what?"

"I got some of the hard drive copied onto my phone before they could wipe the hard drive. We have an address for a hospital and...a surveillance video number. And we have a security camera shot of..."

"Of what?"

"They're deaths."

Dean looked over Sam's shoulder as much as he could and stared at the screen. Damn. He was right. All five if them were at the table with someone. Dean could only see half of her face, but he could tell she was pretty hot. He wouldn't have minded banging that a few times.

* * *

Bambi stood at her motorbike, pulling out her supplies. A few moments ago she met her biological family and had dinner with them. Crowley kindly gave her the honor of doing them in. By now, the paralyzing drug should've kicked in. There was the faintest creak of the door and a startled cross between a yelp and a gasp. They couldn't do much else. She hummed as she gloved up and put on her murder beanie. The woman, her mother, was sobbing and breathing heavily. What an odd way for a hunter to face their death. Usually they just cussed and glared.

She pulled a steel bat from the pile and readies to kill the oldest of the sons, her brother.

One. Two. Three!

Blood and brain run down the walls of the decrepit RV. A warped grin crosses Bambi's face as she basks in the would-be screams that echo throughout the room. The evident agony is like ambrosia. She moves to the youngest son and does the same. Then the middle child. The only two left are her parents. The ones that tried to kill her because she was a girl. They were her family by blood, but they held no place in her heart. By the time they realized how much of a monster she was, it was too late. She took them by surprise with her rage, her thirst for their blood, the blood which now stained her clothes, skin and teeth.

Maniacal laughter poured from her stained lips as she caught sight of her mother's stricken eyes, still staring blankly ahead, uncomprehending. What a simpering mongrel. She can see the questions in her eyes.

"Oh but mother, dear sweet mother, can't you see the answer for yourself? I'm what you made me."

Bambi goes to her assorted tools and finds slaked lime. Perfect. Bambi found gauze and cut it into two thick pads. She put some of the corrosive material on each and duct taped them to her mothers eyes. Her mother screamed-actually it was a choking sound since her vocal chords were paralyzed. Bambi grinned.

"Do you know what they used to do to women that aborted their children? They used this," she said, pulling our a 16th century version of the spider, used to rip the breast off a woman. She had been using the stove to heat the iron. "One. Two...Three."

Blood spurted as Bambi locked in the spider and ripped away the breast. Tissue and fat came out in thick strings as Bambi's mother slumped over. She would exsanguinate soon enough.

Now it was dear old daddy's turn. He looked like a hunter. He was red in the face and his eyes were cold. "Since you're being such a good hunter, I'll let you off easy. No, I'm not letting you live. If I did, there'd be hell to pay. Ah well." Bambi grabbed her knife and delicately cut through the skin of her father's throat until she found the jugular and just barely nicked it. Blood sprayed everywhere. Today was a good day.


	2. Chapter 2

St. Anthony Hospital in the ever-growing town of Shawnee, Oklahoma had the shittiest service ever. In fact, Dean could say the entire town was shit. That street nearly killed Baby with all its goddamn potholes, the traffic was slow and the construction was hell. Then again, they did have a Braums. That stuff was the shit. He could live there and be happy for the rest of his life. If Heaven was real, there would be a Braums. Back to business. He was hating the hospital. Dean hated the blonde behind the desk that smacked her gum and had a high pitch shriek of a laugh while she talked to friends on the phone about last night's Justin Beiber concert, and he most definitely hated the fat old hag of a nurse that was trying to keep them out of Melissa Leatherby's medical files. They flashed her their badges like, eighty times already. She was probably one of those nuts that believed in all that conspiracy crap. The worst thing though, was the fact that the black haired beauty he hit on earlier was a minor for the next month and a half. God, he hated eighteen and over shit. This whole ordeal was one big fucking bust. Dean was just ready to go back to the hotel and jack off to something online while drinking a brewsky and eating Doritos.

"Alright, fellas," the hag-nurse said with fake hospitality. Dean was starting to wonder if she'd melt if he threw water on her. "Here are Leatherby, Melissa's medical files. And here's the number to call for that security footage. You'll have to observe them in a monitored room," the hag-nurse said from behind her potato shaped nose and dike haircut. "And I need to see your badges again."

Dean none-too-gently snatched the hefty file away from the chubby, wrinkly hands and flashed her his badge before marching off to the monitored room. He wasn't in the mood. Sam, being only half as pissed as him, thanked her before shutting the door and loosening that stuffy striped tie. He sat beside Dean as they poured over the medical information, and damn, there was a lot to look over. Time was passing pretty fast as they looked it over. This file had everything they ever-and never-wanted to know about Melissa, including the fact that she had...guh, genital herpes. The thought and mental image would haunt Dean for at least a month...maybe life.

"Great, just great, now I'm scarred for life," Dean said rubbing his face as he gulped his fifth cup of grainy, weak-ass coffee. That damn nurse was probably trying to poison him. "How long have we been in here, Sammy?"

"Four hours," Sam said, peeling over another pile of yellowing medical papers.

Damn. Had it really been that long since they shut themselves in here? For all they knew, Lucifer was standing at the door waiting for them...or maybe even Lilith. The thought made him grimace. What the Winchesters needed was a well-deserved break at the Hamburger King on Main Street in downtown. Man, those things were like mini orgasms in your mouth. It was the only thing that made this town worthy of the state of Oklahoma. They had been working intensively over the case for two days now, and they were no closer to learning anything about how the Leatherbys were killed or who that DemonicMuse bitch was. The Winchesters were grasping at straws-or leads rather-to get them back on the trail of this mysterious woman the Leatherbys were chasing just before their deaths. Actually, they weren't very close to learning much of anything about the family at all.

"I say we call it a day," Dean said, stretching out. "Let's get drunk and-"

"Hold on a second, Dean."

Sam's eyes zipped across a specific paper from a women's clinic in Canada. He went rather pale before Dean saw his jaw do that weird squirmy thing. Sweet baby Jesus, they found something! Dean planted his ass back down in the chair and asked Sammy to divulge on his little treasure trove of knowledge. For a while, Sam just stared at the file. Dean finally jerked it away and started reading. Then he realized why Sammy looked so pale. Melissa had an abortion because her baby was a girl. Sam he dialed a number on his phone while Dean just gawked for a second. Sammy got out his laptop too, and he was using his FBI voice with whoever he was on the phone with. Who the Hell was it?

When he got off the phone, the mouth moving and sound-coming-out thing started. "Okay, so apparently Melissa had an abortion up in Canada back when her and Jacob first tied the knot," Sam mumbled, pulling up his email account.

"I got that. What's that got to do with our case?" Dean shrugged.

To be honest, he was a little put-off by the fact Melissa and Jacob would have an abortion, especially since they were hunters and all. They lived and put their lives on the line for every human in the universe, but they got rid of a baby just because it was a girl. They didn't even try to keep it alive after it survived the whole damn ordeal. They just left it to die alone. Were they really the good people he thought they were? Apparently he didn't know them as well as he thought he did. There went his appetite. Dean was learning things about them he never would have imagined to be true. Obviously he couldn't trust anyone...anyone but family. Even then, Sammy and that demon blood thing were pretty shady. Could he even trust his own brother anymore?

"So, she had an induced labor abortion, and the baby lived. They left it in NICU to die, but it vanished within a two hour timeframe."

"Wait, vanished? So someone took it?"

"Yeah, and they caught him on tape," Sam said, pulling up a video feed.

The feed was black and white, and it was pretty grainy. They wouldn't be able to see anything but shapes. However, Sammy punched a few buttons and made it a bit clearer and added color to it. Thank God for that college education of his. At least it didn't completely go down the proverbial drain. He could see a lot of bassinets, and one of them had a pretty nasty looking baby in it. It was covered in slime and blood, and the umbilical cord was still flopping around. The baby wasn't moving either, but Dean could barely see the blip of a heart beat on a monitor. The nurses were taking care of the other babies, but they avoided the bloody bassinet. That had to be the baby. Suddenly, the footage got grainy, and a man suddenly appeared in front of the bassinet.

"Holy shit!" Dean yelled, jumping slightly in his seat.

The man wore an all-black suit and a black trench coat. He had black, slicked back hair on top of his head, and he looked fairly young and sickly like he was near death. He kinda looked like that villain from that Marvel movie...the one with Scarlett Johansson and the beefy blonde dude. He had a lot of tattoos and piercings too. Man was he fugly. He looked around before cutting his wrists and letting the baby...oh my God it's a demon! The demon wrapped up the baby in a blanket and tucked it under its trench coat like it was nothing more than a cinnamon roll to hide during a Weight Watcher's meeting. Though, if Dean thought on it, it was better than what it was getting earlier. The demon turned to the camera then. Dean and Sam both expected the yellow eyes of Azazel, but instead they saw...

Red.

"Holy motherfucking shit."

* * *

Crowley was going places whether the higher ups liked it or not. He was the bloody King of the Crossroads. Nobody was craftier or cleverer than him. That's why he was in this bloody hospital, actually. While Azazel was busy making a scene, Crowley was busy being discreet. Azazel was a drama queen. He liked to make a show out of his work with all his blood and flames and gravity defiance. Crowley was a demon that liked to get things done with no sparkles or theatrics. He was busy using the unwanted and unneeded which was why he was here. There was a half dead baby. He wanted it.

His most recent experiments had been a total failure. Every child or infant he picked couldn't withstand going to and from Hell. He was trying a new tactic. He was going to use a half-dead infant. If it already had a foot in the ground, perhaps it could better handle the trips. If this didn't work, he'd be giving up this little test. He had other, much better fish to fry with his time.

He strolled into the nursery, taking in the disgusting smell of new life. There was one smell liked though: the smell of blood and fear. The one he was there for reeked of it, and it made the rest of the place bearable to a degree. The infant he wanted was already being circled by another vulture: a reaper. As soon as he spotted Crowley, he nodded and stepped out. What? Crowley had connections in every corner of the supernatural underworld.

Slightly at a loss, he just stood there for a moment. He berated himself for acting like such a pussy. Soft mewling noises started coming from the infant. Little Jane Doe. How pathetic. Hunters wouldn't even name the ugly thing. Odd, it should be getting close to dead by now. He frowned disapprovingly as if it would somehow get the message. A second later the whimpering stopped, and Crowley grinned until it started up again. The vital signs were getting weaker. It was almost time. He needed her on the edge of death.

When the monitors started screaming, Crowley started moving. He carefully slit his palm and let the blood dribble down his fingers. "Look, kid," he said as he popped a bloody finger in its mouth. The child was beginning to look pinker. It was kicking and shaking its arms. "No hard feelings, but I need a lackey that doesn't have a hard on for Luci-in-the-Box. It's just your lucky day."

Crowley unhooked the bloody thing from the machines and wrapped it up to go. It squirmed against him as he moved it into the crook of his arm and pressed it against his chest. He returned the bloodied finger, and it finally stilled enough for him to leave without anyone getting suspicious. Once he was out the door and teleported to the warehouse, he went to lay it on the table. That's when it started screaming.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he snapped. "None of that."

It ignored him. Of course it did. It was a female.

He scowled and picked it up at arm's length. It quit. Stupid, wrinkly little bitch. It was staring straight at him, but he knew it couldn't really see him. "So, now what, bitch? I can't just stand here and hold you until your foster family gets here to take you off my hands."

It sneezed and curled in its legs. It was probably cold. Damn.

Rolling his eyes his situation, he sat in the metal chair and sat himself down. He let the five pound brat lay on his chest. Then he heard the door opening with a loud screech and a bang. A young couple strolled in. They looked like a typical white-picket-fence family. The woman was tall and chubby with black curly hair. The man was lanky and looked like he worked in a Best Buy. Crowley stood and walked over with the baby in hand. He'd be glad to get this drooling thing off his shirt and away from him.

"That meatsuit lactating?"

"Yes, sir. Just like you asked for."

"Good. Take it. I don't wanna hear or see that thing for six fucking months. And I want it in good health."

"Yes, sir."

"I'll be calling weekly for updates. Ciao."


	3. Chapter 3

Crowley was busy trying to snag a deal. They were running low on their soul quota, and he was busy watching a man argue with himself over whether or not he wanted to really go through with it. Damn hunters were knocking down his employee numbers. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t be in this fucking mess. Crowley checked his watch. He'd been watching the prat who summoned him pace for ten minutes. He was a damn fine piece of ass to be summoned by though.

"Look, darling," Crowley said stepping forward, breaking the man of his bloody pacing. "How about you tell me what you want, and I'll see if I can give it to you. Maybe I'll even seal the deal with a little something extra."

"I-I want someone to be cured."

Crowley rolled his eyes. This was so typical. Why couldn’t anyone get a little creative every once in a while? These meat puppets were so droll. "Of what?"

"Cancer. It's my dog, Tickles."

"If you say so, sugar." He was about to snap, but the poor fool stopped him.

"What do I have to do?"

"Just a kiss...and your soul."

"O-Oh...okay. I'm not using it."

"Sure, sugar." Crowley teleported in front of the poor fool and grabbed him in for a bit of frenching. He went to pull away, but the client wanted more. Well, the customer was always right.

* * *

 

He was only gone for forty-five minutes, so what was the fuss about? His phone had one, two...eighty texts and twenty missed phone calls. Hell had better be freezing over for all the fucking trouble they went through. He teleported to the doors of his office when he heard it: infantile screams. Fuck. He opened the doors and saw two demons on one side of the room and a screaming infant carrier on the other side. What the Hell? Were they scared of a little human? They were demons!

Crowley poured himself a drink and sat at his desk. "How long have you two been on baby duty?"

"Th-Three months, sir."

Crowley took a drink and paused before slamming his tumbler on the desk. Both of them jumped. It was good to be King. "And how many months was it actually supposed to last?"

"S-Six, sir."

"Uh huh...and what was my number one rule?"

"Don't let you see or hear the baby."

"Well, I see it. I hear it...start talking!" he barked. An unseen force (aka yours truly) pinned them down to their seats. He could hear the dull cracking of ribs underneath those pretty little meatsuits. Ah, he loved the sounds of pain in the morning. Perhaps he would go visit Alistair after this.

"We're not doing it anymore!" the woman snapped. Crowley's eyebrow shot up. That was quite a lot of backbone for a low-level.

"Oh really?"

"I-It won't stop crying. Ever since it could see us good, it-"

"Well."

"What?"

"Ever since it could see us _well_ , dumbass." When he got the blank monkey stares, he rolled his eyes. "Go on then."

"Ever since then, she's been crying any time we go near her or she sees another demon."

"And there's more," the male added.

Crowley groaned and began rubbing his temples. "I'm not a lazy oaf like you lot. I don't have all bloody day to do as I well please. Spit it out."

"S-She," they looked at each other, "she killed a dog."

Crowley had to do a double-take on that one. It killed a dog? It was barely old enough to lift its head! They better not be trying to get out of their job with some fucked up sob story. "It...what?"

"A dog! She killed it! Blew it to shit!"

Crowley frowned. "Is that so..." he mumbled as he strolled over to the child. It was still crying, and as soon as it saw him it got even louder. Maybe he gave it a little too much demon blood. "Well-"

They were gone. He was going to split their heads open when he found those two again. And now he had a screaming baby in his office. He hated demons.

* * *

 

"Hello, Crowley, dear."

Crowley froze with his pen in mid-sentence when he heard that all too sickly sweet voice that was Lilith. "Hello, love," he grumbled as he finished the word he was in the middle of writing before dropping the pen in defeat. If he didn't pay attention to her, she'd get pissy.

Honestly, this was a bad time for one of his lover's random visits. He hated how she loved to use chaos to show she was the more powerful, dominant one in the relationship. It drove him up the fucking wall. Right now he was trying to fix another lackey's messy paperwork before he asked for the daily quota. Did no one have any sort of pride in their work anymore?! Apparently Hell was just an unemployment paradise! That paperwork certainly wouldn't get done with a horny, white-eyed demon in his presence. Sighing, he glanced down at the rocking crib he was nudging with his foot. Then there was that little ball of piss and shit to worry about keeping alive too.

"What in fuck's name is that?"

In the crib was a tiny girl that looked to be three months old. When she was awake, she had light blue eyes, a thick tuft of black hair, and she was wearing a ridiculous pink onesie. Crowley was still pissed at those two minions for bailing yesterday. Frowning, he noted that she was starting to wake up. Well, that wasn't good. When it was awake, it always cried because it could see their true faces. He found that one out after a bit of asking around and some experimenting.

"Very blunt way of asking that don't you think, love?"

"Answer the question, Crowley." To make a point, she made his favorite crystal tumbler chip at the top. Marmy ass bitch.

"If you must know," he said, rolling his eyes as he leaned back in his leather chair. Holy Hell, he loved ergonomic furniture. "It's an experiment. I believe humans used to call it a myling. She's half dead and half alive. Not quite monster, and not quite human. Perfect experiment material. I got the idea from dear ole Zazey."

"Why do you need it?"

"Why do you get horny when you see a skinned granny?" he asked, trying to divert her attention.

Lilith shut the door and locked it behind her as she approached. Interesting, she could still get all hot and bothered with a baby in her presence. This was Lilith they were talking about though. Crowley watched her look at the baby warily. He wasn't about to lose his experiment. It took him seven fucking centuries to find a baby that could actually survive in Hell, and he wasn't about to go back to the drawing board again. He was so tired of going to hospital nurseries. There was too much...guh, human. Didn't help that his meatsuit thought they were the cutest things ever. Crowley hated when a meatsuit echoed.

"What do you know about it?"

Crowley jerked Lilith away from the crib before the baby got a glimpse of her. He did not need another five hours of screaming infant blowing up his Hellhounds and furniture. He had a limited supply. Instead, he pulled his lover onto his lap and ground his rather obvious hard on into her ass. Of course, Lilith just couldn't appreciate that, so she dug her nails into Crowley's neck. "Ah! For fuck's sake! H-Her name is Leatherby. The demons I left her with named her...shit! Woman!" he roared as she bit his bicep. "It's two living months old, eleven demon months old, born in Canada. Anymore details or is...is that enough?" he snapped.

Lilith smirked and withdrew her claws, lapping the blood from her nails. "That's enough."

Crowley frowned at Lilith but remained still; he was her subordinate after all. He actually wanted to keep this meatsuit intact. He was picky about what he wore. He watched while Lilith eyed the baby curiously. When the Hell did she grow a heart? He looked over with a raised brow and saw the thing looking up at the air, kicking and pawing at some invisible force. She was starting to make huffing noises too. Crowley looked back at Lilith and saw her watching. Damn, was he this stupid when he was human? And what the Hell was with Lilith? Surely she'd seen a baby before.

"Why are things so amusing to babies? It puzzles me."

Crowley shrugged, running his hands over Lilith's hips and pulling her against him. He needed to get her back on track, his track. He believed it was called...topping from the bottom. "The Hell should I know?"

Lilith moaned welcomingly, but continued that look. "It's going to be named Bambi."

"Bambi? Why?"

She bit his cheek that time. "Because I like it. And I want it to be Bambi."

Bullshit. She wanted to name it that because she liked the damn children's movie. She was taking this innocence thing to a whole new level of fucked up. She did it to piss him off too. That was probably the main reason. "Whatever you say, love."

"You need to hold her more."

Crowley laughed lightly and yelped at a twist of his tit, making him grimace. He heard something tear.

"Her head will be misshapen if you don't," Lilith growled dangerously. "If I must look at her, I want her to be cute."

Crowley decided then was as good a time as any to start snogging, if for no reason other than to shut her up and stop the mutilation. He kept his hands dormant on her ass, knowing if he moved she'd go ballistic. Lilith meanwhile was going insane with her hand, messing up Crowley's coif, ripping out his piercings and tugging at his trousers. She was grinding against him with no purpose, all chaos and no goddamned order. Where was the rhythm?! This was quickly becoming a chore more than hot sex.

As if she heard his plea, the baby started her crying all over again. Crowley pried Lilith away and gave her more of a sneer than a sorry smile. "Sorry, love, duty calls. Unless you want to play house with dear old Crowley."

Lilith smirked and got up, vanishing from the room. She'd probably go see Alastair or Azazel about that whole hot and bothered thing. Better them than him honestly. Crowley picked up the baby, keeping her away from his body. Her head did look a little...flat. Shit. He didn't need to actually give Lilith a reason to rip his dick off. Frowning, Crowley actually changed and fed the disgusting thing. That was a chore he wouldn't be repeating. She cried the entire. Fucking. Time. After nearly thirty minutes Crowley had had enough.

"Hey!" he snarled.

She looked at him with red, blotchy cheeks and watery eyes. She had that deer in the headlights look. She kind of did look like some pathetic deer.

"Stop that! If you're gonna live here, you'll have to get used to me and every other demon."

Silence. She sniffled.

"That's more like it," Crowley said with a smirk. He went to lay her down though, she started crying and screaming again. He lifted her up to him, and she went silent. "You sneaky little bitch." Crowley sighed and sat in his chair holding a tiny infant in the crook of his arm. Bollocks. He hadn't planned for this. She was being quiet though, so Crowley supposed it was...somewhat okay. Liquor would make it better. Where did he put that bottle of Craig?


	4. Chapter 4

Little two year old Bambi had just learned something exciting. She learned how to play a new game while observing two kids in one of her new books Miss Lily got her for not screaming during her punishment for sneezing without covering her nose.

* * *

Her whole body felt so broken. She was getting a few seconds of respite, but in Hell, seconds were like minutes. They were giving her wounds some time to heal. Then it began, all over again. The pain. Slice after slice, cutting the muscles from her bones. She wanted to cry out for help, for Crowley, screaming. Sometimes he would stop Miss Lily, but sometimes he wouldn't. If she made any sounds, it would only make Miss Lily even madder.

"Now, what do we say?" Miss Lily asked.

"I-I sowwy," she choked out as Miss Lily healed her and reformed her larynx, tongue and trachea.

"For?”

"N-Not covewing m-my sneeze."

"Good girl. For being so good, I'll get you a present,” she cooed as she bent over and unbuckled Bambi from the table. Bambi sniffled and wiped her eyes of invisible tears. Miss Lily gave her a kiss on the cheek and sat her down. “Now get lost.”

* * *

It was a silly game that reduced her to giggles when she thought of how odd hiding an object was. She had often sought to find stuff she misplaced, but she never thought there could be a situation when she might hide stuff to find it. It was strange, new and very, very fun. As soon as Crowley had time, she was quite eager to test her new skill. After all, there were so many different things to hide in different places.

She presented herself in Crowley's study that morning with a proud grin pinching her cheeks. The smile annoyed Crowley to no end, and he set down his work to look at Bambi. He had the usual, expectant look that said he really didn't enjoy doing any of this, but to speak anyway. "I wanna pway-"

"No."

"But Cwowee…I alweady shtahted."

"I said no, Bambi."

Bambi frowned and mumbled something before walking out. Several hours passed before Crowley opened a drawer in his desk, his eyes on a contract while his hand reached in. The hand stopped for a moment, as if startled, and then his fingers pattered around the drawer until the demon was forced to look away and inspect why his hand was unable to find what it was looking for. His presently blue eyes peered into the drawer and then blinked, time passing while the pen continued to be absent from his usually locked drawer.

"Bollocks."

An unseen force pulled the drawer from the desk, leaving the compartment empty, and a brief investigation confirmed that the pen had not somehow lodged itself behind the drawer. Minutes later, Crowley's favorite mahogany desk had been dissected and its contents tossed about. After shuffling through some loose papers and reassembling his desk, Crowley began to tear apart his cabinets and shelves. When he reached parts of the study he hadn't touched in weeks, the master bedroom and its contents found themselves being disemboweled as well. Hours passed and still he did not find the bloody pen, but now it was dinner time and he needed to take care of the girl. He often forgot to feed her for days at a time because he didn't have to eat.

He sat at the table normally used for holding bloody weapons while she ate across from him. While Bambi twittered on about a book, the crossroads King could only think of the missing pen and the face of a very pissed off Lilith. The image made him cringe. He did not want to make her any angrier than she already was. Bambi was confused by Crowley's lack of interest, obviously her business was superior, so she stopped talking and watched Crowley. "Whas wong?"

Crowley glanced up and saw a smirk on Bambi's face. Bitch! She knew something. Suspicion entered, and Crowley's eyes narrowed. "Bambi…have you seen my pen? The one I sign my contracts with."

Small blue eyes stared. "I saw it dis mowning."

"Where?"

The child was looking at him again, her pink lips pursed. "I know whe' it is, but I can't tew you."

Crowley said nothing for a moment, searching the little face. His voice continued to grow tense with his bubbling anger. "And...what's stopping you from telling me?"

A pouting Bambi huffed and squirmed.

"Bambi Leatherby, where is my pen?! I've been looking for it all day!"

"You haven' found it?!" she sat up in her chair, eyes wide. Crowley was nonplussed by the reaction to say the least.

"Does it fucking look like I found it?" he snapped. "Idiot."

"I sowwy I'm too good, Cwowee! I nevoh meant to be so good at it!"

Crowley's elbows were planted on the dining table, and his face was hidden in his hands. He began to massage both his eyes with his palms then leaned back in his chair, took a breath, and let out a groan. He asked Bambi to reveal the hiding place after promising one...just one brief game, and they went to retrieve it from beneath one of his chair cushions. When the child asked to pick something else, Crowley made sure he told her that everything in his library, study, and bedroom was off limits. Bambi laughed with excitement and scampered from the room to begin the new game. To catch up on his work, Crowley situated himself behind his desk, took out his pen, pulled out the documents he had been reading, and dipped the pen in fresh infant blood.

Crowley's eyes left the papers when Bambi stopped at the door, and then opened it. "I hid it."

"That's it? That's how the game goes?"

"Yes! So now you have to wook for de ting I hid."

"What is it? How will I know what to look for if you don't tell me?" he asked, knowing she'd let it slip, so he could get this over with.

"Oh! I fowgot! I hid Gwowee in-" her eyes widened and she bit her lip. "Oh, I can't tew you."

"You…hid what?" Crowley's smirk was gone and his chin left his fingers. Bollocks! He knew this was a stupid idea. He should’ve just beat her and sent her to her room for a few days.

"I hid Gwowee."

The study was silent. There were many strange things implied by that statement. She refused to tell him where she had hidden Crowley’s favorite Hellhound. Crowley had never taught the girl to fear Growley, there was no need, but using him as a toy? Maybe he should've scared her more often as a child. She already knew about the darker malevolent nature that dwelled within the world and Hell. Growley could not threaten Bambi in any way. The most disturbing detail--the demon discovered after she refused to give him hints concerning the general direction of his pup's location--was that her command was just as strong as any order he could give. He really shouldn't have given her so much demon blood.

Well, Growley was not in the nursery, though Bambi giggled when Crowley searched under her bed. He was not in the kitchen. Several bathrooms, halls, closets, and bedrooms were examined, all of their various hiding places were scrutinized, but no evidence of the Hound was found. The next day he was supposed to receive some company of the sexual nature. He had hoped to find his dog before his arrival. He did not. Marcus had been in the waiting room for a few minutes before Crowley entered, but after Marcus had risen from the couch and they had snogged for a good three minutes in greeting, Crowley paused. Without offering any explanation, he lowered himself to the floor in order to peer under the couch. Muscles made tense by impatience and the strain of suppressed rage poorly masked how the Hell Hound felt at the moment his master's face finally appeared. The glare that had been fixed on Marcus' shoes, and which had been transferred to Crowley's before hiding itself behind the indifferent mask, returned when jaws parted and a low growl rumbled out.

"Well...there you are."


	5. Chapter 5

"Goddamn carpets. I ain't drunk enough for this shit."

Bobby huffed as he wheeled himself down to the nonfiction mythology section of the Sioux Falls Library for the eighteenth hundredth time in a goddamn hour. He hit a dead end in his research. His face was pert near tomato red with frustration as he reached for a book on the fourth shelf which was just out of his reach. Damn the demons and monsters and authors alike. They were putting a major damper on his lifestyle. Bobby huffed and pulled out his small whiskey canteen. He needed to mellow out before he lost his shit and used the gun tucked into his belt to shoot the damn shelf down to his level. The welcome burn as the liquid slid down his throat calmed him enough to see through his anger though. He needed a plan.

Bobby thought he remembered a librarian close by. He could probably just have her get it for him, but was he really ready to hand over his independence? If it got him outta here quick and back to his secluded home, yes...yes he was. Bobby wheeled himself around the shelf and found her shelving books while bumping a heavy cart with her hip as she moved. She was a pretty young thing with pale skin and ashy black hair pulled back in a teeny-bopper rat's nest bun. That's weird...he hadn't seen her working there before, and he practically lived in that library. As he approached, he noticed her very curvy figure in her rather...form fitting, revealing clothes. Balls. Bobby was pretty sure there was an unattractive librarian dress code, and she definitely wasn't obeying the rules. Crap. Naughty librarian. Backtrack, reverse. The hell kind of librarian was she? Bobby suddenly felt like he was trapped in one of Dean's raunchy pornos.

"Hey, uh, Miss," Bobby said, stopping about two feet away. She turned to look at him with big, almost white-blue eyes that caught him off guard for a moment. There was something...off about the girl. Like…creepy off. Maybe it was that unblinking, wide-eyed gaze she leveled him with. It didn't seem natural. The shade was a bit freaky too. Like some freaky-ass cat.

"Can I help you, Sir?" her voice was deep and reminded him of something...or maybe someone. What was it?

"Yeah, uh, I need some help with reaching some books over in mythology."

"Oh, okay," she said, leading the way. She smelled weird; Bobby knew that smell. What was it? It kind of smelled like...burning bodies, copper and gunpowder. "Are you doing research?" she asked as she walked down the small aisle, not looking back as she went as if she owned the place.

"Sorta."

"I'm pretty good with mythology. Maybe I could help you. What are you looking for?"

"Stuff on something called an Aswang."

"Ah, it's a Philippine creature," she said as she started wildly pulling books. Bobby couldn’t help but stare as her blouse started to ride up as she reached. He gulped when the second button pulled apart enough to reveal black lace. Damn. "They're shape-shifters that turn into mostly domestic animals...sometimes farm animals if the setting is right. Sound like the thing you're looking for?"

"Uh...yeah."

Bobby stared at the girl who was carrying at least ten books on mythology to a table. She was a small thing, but damn she was strong. Most of those books were at the Tolkien stage of thickness. He followed and started leafing through the pages as she sat them out. Bobby noticed from the corner of his eye that the librarian was now opening and flipping through the books as well as she sat in a chair beside him. He read about their feeding habits and everything, but there was nothing else. Huffing, he looked over at the librarian. "Anything else?" he asked as he watched her writing.

"Well, this isn't in any books we have on site, but they can change humans through virgin sex. Think of it like a human vampire slash mosquito, except the sucker is their genitalia. They can sense when they're being noticed, and they're only weak in the daytime when they aren't feeding."

"How can you tell 'em apart from usual humans?" he asked warily.

"Eyes," the librarian said, pointing at her own. "The reflection will be upside down."

"How do you know all this again?" Bobby asked, suspicious. Only a hunter would have that much information on any kind of monster. Ever. Not even the professors he was in contact with had this much dirt. She was talking about it like it was real too, not some myth. Either she was one of the closeted goth weirdos or she was a hunter herself. "Miss?"

The librarian's eyes widened and she turned a shade of light pink. "It's a...hobby I guess. My name's Bambi if you need anything else, Mister?"

"Just Bobby."

The girl's eyes flashed in a smile as she walked off and returned to her work a few feet away. Yup. There was definitely something off about her and not in a good way. She knew way too much information to just be a simple little librarian or have mythology as a "hobby." That's like sayin' making Holy Water wasn't a chore that made Bobby want to tear his already lacking amount of hair out. And she reminded him of someone, but who was it? It was on the tip of his tongue. Bobby continued reading before taking another long drink out of his flask. His mind was still trying to process who the girl was in his mind. Balls! Oh...wait, she reminded him of Melissa Leatherby. She had the hair and the fox-like face structure.

Bobby pulled out his phone and called the boys up as he read. They needed this information for a hunt down in the Florida Keys. There was a string of murders that seemed on the edge of normal. There was no motive, no links between victims and no identifiable murder weapon. The only thing that tipped them off was the lack of blood in each victim. Thankfully--or maybe not--it only went after the older folks. His boys were safe for the time being.

“Hey, what'd ya find for us Bobby?" Dean's ungrateful voice asked. Didn't John ever teach these idjits some manners? "I could use some good news right about now."

"A lot...it's from the Philippines, a shape shifting mosquito vampire human hybrid. You can only kill it in the day time. Look in the eyes for an upside down reflection."

"What do we gank it with?"

Bobby paused. He'd have to ask Bambi about that. "Hang on. Uh...Bambi?"

"Yes?" she asked, looking up with those eerie eyes again.

"Is there a specific weapon I need? If I were to...y'know write a book?" Damn, that was a lame ass excuse.

"Nah, nothing fancy," Bambi said approaching him before noticing the phone. An odd look passed over her face, but she recovered so quick he wasn't sure he hadn't just imagined it. It almost looked...Machiavellian.

"Hear that Dean?"

"Yeah, dude is that a chick? Sounds hot. You bumping nasties?" Dean asked.

Bobby rolled his eyes. He could practically sense the kid's boner through the cell. The kid was like a horny little Chihuahua that humped the furniture. "She's a librarian, Dean."

"So? The kinkier the better. For a minute I coulda sworn it was Melissa, y'know?" he said, sounding melancholy. There was a pause that held a lot of pain for Dean. "Probably just me wussing out over her murder though."

"How's that comin'?"

"Dead end."

Bobby sighed. "I'm sorry, kid. Just...be careful."

Bobby knew how Dean could be when he was upset. He was reckless and violent. Bobby knew how he felt though. He'd known the Leatherby's since he started up in the business. They taught him a lot about things like djinn and shapeshifters. Now some hunter assassin just popped up and killed them all at the dinner table? It wasn't right. It didn't sit well with anyone who knew them really. They weren't used to seeing humans killing humans. Most hunters couldn't handle it well after seeing all the evil they usually did.

"Don't sweat it. And, hey! Nail that librarian. Maybe it'll make you a bit less bitchy. And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"I am not-" Beep. "Idjit."


	6. Chapter 6

It--no, she--was absolutely pathetic. Bambi sat at the end of the bar feeling ridiculously pissed at herself for being alone and drinking in a bar filled with intermingling people. As if alcohol ever repaired a broken heart or y'know...depression. How desperate and pathetic is a woman who comes to a bar and drinks alone? Well, she wasn't desperate per se...just depressed. Watching the one you love flitter through relationships was never a good thing for the morale. Especially when he flaunted it like a new pair of baby-skin shoes. The man in question just recently dumped some lack-luster bitch to be with another male. Now that got her hopes up for a bright future! Guh, they were all either gay, bi, taken or demons…or all of the above. Not fucking fair. Crowley was so far out of her reach, but for some reason she had always liked him. Maybe it was because of the favoritism or maybe she was just an in-denial sadomasochist. Yep, it was probably that last one.

* * *

"Hey," the black-eyed goon grumbled. "We're here."

Bambi turned to look out the window and inwardly cringed. Crowley's mansion. She'd been there a few times before, but most of the time she was there to either recover from a hunt or be punished by Crowley exclusively. She wasn't injured, so this had to be a punishment. Fuck. He was probably going to punish her for not destroying the video evidence of her murdering her family. It was a rookie mistake, but she was actually emotionally invested in that assignment. She had broken two of Crowley's big rules: don't get emotionally invested and don't leave evidence. Actually, she broke a third one too: don’t piss off Crowley.

"Alright then, come on," the demon grumbled as he opened the door and pulled her out by the arm.

It should probably have worried her how much she secretly enjoyed pain. She was raised on it after all. It was one of her building blocks. For Bambi, pain and pleasure were interlinked. She was actually getting nervously excited about this up and coming punishment. Crowley's punishments were the most enjoyable. If any of his other victims knew she felt that way, they'd probably be horrified. Crowley was one of the best and most feared when it came to punishments. He always made it a game of psychological and physical submission.

As they neared the front door, Bambi could see that it was locked and guarded. As soon as the guard saw her, he gave a grunt of understanding and stepped aside, pulling the door open. She was a frequent visitor for mouthing off to a superior and getting maimed during assignments. "He's in his usual room," he added before shutting the door behind them.

It wasn’t even a minute before they were standing in front of a dark wooden door. Even the demons didn’t like being around Crowley for long. He tended to be like a cannon with the fuse lit. Bambi lowered her head in submission as the demons pulled her by her upper arms. If she looked him defiantly in the eye, it would only make him angrier. She heard the door click shut before they walked forward and Bambi was forced onto her knees and a hand clasped loosely around the back of her neck. She was a bit unpredictable too.

“Sir," one said with respect.

From what Bambi could see, Crowley was sitting in his usual armchair, one leg crossed over the other while holding a tumbler full of...scotch? He was in a bad mood. He was dressed in a well-fitted white, long-sleeved dress shirt. His pants, black dress slacks, were equally tailored from what she could see from that angle and ended at black dress shoes.

"Bambi," he greeted in a low baritone, the gravel in his voice making her force down a shiver of dread. "Clear the room."

There was a shuffle of movement as Crowley walked over and grabbed Bambi by the throat, pulling just enough to get her to stand. His hand remained there even after they were alone. "I think you know why I called you here."

Bambi grinned. If she was going to be punished, she was going to enjoy it. "Not really, no."

Something flashed in his eyes, and his grip tightened. “Should I remind you then? About my fifty commandments?”

Bambi shook her head, and his grip lessened long enough for her to get a fresh gulp of sulfur incensed air.

"Let's get started then, shall we? Strip."

Bambi's eyes darted around the room, and that's when she saw the St. Andrew's Cross leaned forward in the corner. There were the usual nails sticking out at the center, and the cuffs had them on the inside as well. Shit, shit, shit! Bambi quickly obeyed. She felt her own irritation climbing as Crowley openly watched with disinterest. Usually, he'd have someone else lock her in and tell her to unclothe before he came in. His gaze on her almost made her squirm as she finished and returned to standing still.

“Like what you see?” she snapped.

“No,” he sighed. “Too lumpy.”

Bambi didn't have to be told to follow Crowley as he walked towards what would be one of the instruments of her torture. She only had a moment process his disappearance before one of his hands pressed between her shoulder blades and shoved her down onto the cross. Her chest hit the intersection of the beams with enough force to drive the breath from her and crack her sternum with a loud snap. She grunted as the nails bore into her chest and Crowley pressed her hard against it and stepped forward. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of hearing her scream yet. He took her right wrist in a firm grip and forced it into the cuff. This time, she grit her teeth and groaned as the nails pierced her skin. He continued until each appendage was locked in place and pierced.

She heard him step away, and she fought the urge to crane her head to look where he was going. She heard the sound of tinkling metal and caught a terrified glimpse at its source: a Jiujiebian with barbed ends. Oh fuck. It sent an anticipatory shudder through her. Yes, she was one sick, sick puppy. He came around, showing it to her and tilting her chin up with the handle. "You'll count out your punishment, and then I'll beat you until you beg."

Her breathing kicked up a notch at the idea, throat working in another swallow. He moved behind her and stayed eerily still. Bambi was about to take a peak, but then she heard it. The whistle of the metal through the air was the only warning she got, and then lines of fire raced along her skin. She gasped and jerked against the cuffs, making the nails dig deeper into appendages.

Crowley waited and then sighed. “That’s another ten.”

Another swing cracked down over her back. She grit her teeth, flattening herself against the wood of the cross, making the nails in her chest dig in. The next one forced a small noise from between her clenched teeth.

“Fuck you,” she snarled as her arms began to shake.

He started laying it on thick then. By twenty, she finally gave in and screamed. “Goddamn it! One!”

“Good girl,” he purred, coming close and gently stroking the side of her neck. Bambi whimpered and leaned into the touch, but before she could truly savor the break in punishment, he was stepping back again.

At her much later scream of twenty-seven, she was trembling, panting, and when the flog sliced over her skin another time, she actually cried out. She could feel the blood on her back, down her arms and legs and down her stomach. At forty-five, Bambi's throat seized on a cry of pain, and panic snapped her eyes open when she couldn't cry out. Her chest heaved, and she struggled to get anything past her clenched throat. She heard something explode behind her that sounded like wood, and a portrait on the wall was shaking.

She felt a warm hand soothe over her ribs. "Breathe, kitten," he ordered, and after a moment she was able obey. She let out a shaky breath and felt her body slowly relax despite the fact that the nails were continuously digging into her muscle tissue. "Before you blow up anything other than my coffee table."

The strikes came slower, and twice more Crowley had to pause to get her breathing again. He stopped at seventy. Every muscle in Bambi's body locked as she arched against the wood, a high, strangled sound escaping her throat. She stayed suspended, as pain overtook her. It was wonderful as everything suddenly went limp. She heard him snap, and suddenly she was falling. On her back. Bambi screamed and immediately rolled over on shaky arms and legs.

"Very good," he said in a low voice as he sat in his chair again. He patted his leg and somehow Bambi managed to crawl over and rest her head on his knee while he petted her head with a relaxed but firm hand. "We're done, kitten. Your offenses are forgiven."

All she could do was breathe through the pain and euphoria. Crowley once in a while lowered his glass and allowed her to drink. With each sip, she stopped shaking a little bit more as the pain dulled along with her senses.

* * *

"Miss, this drink is for you," the middle aged bartender said, sliding another Death in the Afternoon in front of her. He pointed toward the opposite end of the bar. "From the gentleman right there in the wheelchair."

"Thank you," she replied, turning to see the mystery man.

Her eyes widened, and she smiled when her eyes met a pair of familiar hazel ones. Bobby Singer and a friend were down the bar, and Bobby waved. Ah, yes, she was playing the innocent, naïve woman with sex appeal. For some reason, hunters were shallow and emotionally inept enough to enjoy that kind of bullshit. A few weeks ago, Crowley had sent her down to watch over Mr. Robert Singer. He was like a corn pone Harriet Tubman with how hunters came and went like men through a strip club. The smile Bambi gave him in return became forced when she noticed the man with Bobby.

She looked at her phone and at the picture of her next target. Same man...well, that was easy. He was scruffy looking with a slight overgrowth of hair shading his chin and cheeks. It was a typical look for hunters, she had discovered. He had long, wavy brown hair pulled back in a messy ponytail. He was dressed in a wife beater and jeans with a thick gold chain around his neck and a gold pinky ring. Most of that was probably stolen. He looked like some mix between a beach bum and a gangster hoodlum. She went to leave when the man walked out the door. It'd be best to kill him quickly so she could get back to Hell...to Crowley. He hated it when she didn't report in in an orderly fashion. However, Bobby wheeled himself over to her and pulled himself into the barstool before she had the chance.

She didn't know whether to be irritated or apprehensive. He gave her a million dollar smirk that made her smile in return. He wasn’t that bad of a guy. "Hello, Bobby. Fancy meeting you here."

"You should've told me you were a drinkin' woman," he said, taking a drink of what smelled like whiskey. "I'da taken ya out."

"When the occasion calls for it, I can," she replied, nursing her own drink gingerly. "Thank you though, for the drink."

"What's the occasion?"

"I'm about to start work on another...project. It's a mythology study. I do them as hobbies y'know? I'm about to get started on...uhm, the Terrible Monster of Jerusalem. Speaking of which, how's your research going?"

"It's uh...it's good. Listen, I was thinkin' maybe you'd like to come over for, I dunno drinks and old books?"

"Hmm," Bambi muttered, thinking about it only slightly. A woman has to play hard to get, right? She was just glad the lights were low so he couldn't see her blushing. She'd never been asked to go out. She was only ever ordered around. It was kinda nice. Refreshing. "I'd like that. Maybe next weekend?"

"Sounds good."

"Thank you again for the drink, Bobby...and the company," she added, smiling. “I needed it.”

"Ehh, it's no trouble. You're too cute to be alone."

There were a few seconds of silence before they started smirking and chuckling. This guy was smooth as silk when he wanted to be even for an old drunk. "So, Casanova," she said with a giggle. "What's your occupation?"

"I got a scrap car lot."

"Really," she said with a smile before her phone went off. It was Crowley…probably asking what the hell was taking so long. Dammit. "Shit. I'm really sorry, Bobby. I have to run," she said, standing and kissing his stubbly cheek before heading to the door. "I'll be in touch."

"How?" he called.

She paused. "I have my ways."

As soon as Bambi was out of the bar, she called Crowley back. Her smile was gone, and her happy alcohol buzz was gone too. Honestly, he knew better than to bug her during a crucial mission like this. On the sixth ring, he finally decided to pick up, and she was a pissed off kitty by then. "What the hell, Crowley? I was busy."

"Don't get cheeky with me, kitten,” he snarled. Bambi tensed and took a deep breath. “I know you've been drinking, so I'll let the obvious disrespect slide. Now, the hunter you're after is at a hotel right now. He's in Room 202."

"I could've found all this out on my own. Why the hell are you getting so involved?" she asked. Secretly, she had always wanted to hear Crowley say he cared even as a child. That was wishful thinking.

"Because you're not on schedule!" Crowley snapped. "What the fuck have I taught you about order and precision?!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going," Bambi grumbled as she slid into her '10 Hummer. "Geez, try not to have an arrhythmia, jackass. Fucking OCD leprechaun."


	7. Chapter 7

"What the fuck?!" Crowley blinked and scowled at the creature responsible for the overflow of his precious Craig that now stained his desk. Oh, there would be Hell to pay for this. Bobbing in the beverage, a cygnet kicked more water out, shaking its puffball wings. Crowley lowered himself into the seat behind his desk, watching the cygnet with a deadly scowl. Last time he checked, he did not purchase real estate on earth near a body of water. That meant one thing. "This has Bambi written all over it. Bambi! Get your fat ass in here!"

The infantile waterfowl peeped and continued to float. He remembered when she first brought the damn things to his home last week. 

* * *

Crowley observed the sickening, tooth-rotting scene: a child curled protectively around a nest of wild cygnets in a run down shed. A few gardeners informed him moments ago that a girl was sleeping in the back of the musty old thing that came with the property. None of them knew anything about Bambi since she usually stayed indoors, so he had to have them killed. A shame really. His hounds would take care of the corpses; they deserved a treat every once in a while.

He stepped closer, until he was looking down at his charge, counting the sleeping or lazily playing cygnets. They were a mix of grey and white; a few watched the demon while others continued to nibble at each other's stubby wings. When the demon crouched and then kneeled, lifting a hand and moving it in their direction, the nest erupted in a cacophony of chirps and rustling straw, opening the child's eyes. She reached out a hand to stroke the noisy things, coaxing them to sit and rest again. They continued to chirp at intervals, but they were gradually calming. She was watching him warily.

* * *

The prediction came true the instant said human entered the study after knocking, not waiting for a response, and drifting to the demon's desk. With keen eyes, Crowley witnessed the girl's ruffled appearance, his scowl deepening significantly when Bambi took several moments to stare mutely at the bird instead of address him properly. Perhaps it was the fact that she was a thirteen year old in the middle of…he shuddered at the thought of it: the change. She was an ugly thing, and he reminded her of it every day. Her eyes were dull, she had that disgusting acne, and she hacked all off her hair off. Her frame was too lanky and she wore…ugh, baggy sweaters. Her face was always fixed in a frown too, not that a smile would make her any more attractive.

"Is this how the King of the Crossroads enjoys his liquor?"

"No, it's too alive for that."

They stared at each other in defiant silence before Bambi took the initiative, breaking her gaze and approaching the cygnet that chirped at the girl as if she was its mother. 

"It wandered away when I was sleeping. I have kept track of the others."

"Others?!" Crowley snapped. "You mean you let the whole bloody flock into my house?!"

"You haven't noticed until now. You won't notice again."

"No."

"If you don't let me, I'll tell Lilith who you were sleeping with last night."

Crowley froze and growled. "Bitch."

"Prick."

Crowley reclined in his chair to watch as a pale hand lifted the duckling from the cup with grace, perfectly controlled and without caution. Her blue eyes met his currently green ones and observed as the glass poured itself out an unopened window before returning to be cleaned later. She nodded to him, but the door slammed in her face.

"You're forgetting something."

"May I leave, Sir?"

Crowley smirked and opened the door, watching her frumpy retreating form until she took a turn towards the stairs.

* * *

It was unusual not to see Bambi several times during the day. In fact, Crowley hadn't seen his ward since their little…talk earlier. Scowling, he began searching the house until he found her in the bathroom. How long had she been in there, he wondered. It had been several hours since he'd allowed her to leave, but surely she couldn't have been in there the whole damn time. Crowley opened the door only a small bit and nearly broke the doorknob in his grasp. In the bath that he paid to maintain, eight infant swans paddled about, oftentimes into one another as they nipped at their wings. Bambi was kneeling on the tile floor with her arms on the rim of the bathtub, the air humid with steam. Wait a second…why the Hell was he sneaking around his own house?!

When the door opened, a noticeable draft rushed into the room, but the invasion was cut short when Crowley shut the door behind him. Bambi glanced back at the black-clad figure with a wary scowl. Crowley smirked, glad he made her uncomfortable. Once she was sure he was only observing, she returned her gaze to the tub as a warm hand splashed at the water that distracted the birds. A few inquisitive birds paddled towards his hand, cheeping loudly. Crowley watched as Bambi smirked, flicking water at the cygnet before rubbing its head; he scowled at that. Only he should get to decide when she was happy.

Virtually oblivious to the tension in the bathroom between the human and the demon, a cygnet scratched at its bill with a webbed foot; so, as a seasoned hunter with acute senses sharpened to detect any sudden opportunity, Bambi took the chance to stroke the bird's back. The next flurry of action came as a handful of them decided to have a very sudden and brief race across the tub, sending droplets of water flying to dampen spots on Bambi's sweatshirt sleeve, one drop touching her face gently as she smiled. Crowley scowled again and folded his arms over his chest. He couldn't have her too happy. He still had control; all he had to do was tighten the leash a bit.

Various heads dipped into the water to snatch at imaginary fish. Maybe he could cajole them into committing suicide by drowning? Bambi would make him do something about it though. Hell cygnets and Hell hounds…no, absolutely not worth his trouble. One of them, braver or hungrier than the rest, decided to see if Bambi's hand was edible. The nibbling beak presently chirped in disappointment as Bambi gently flicked its little head as punishment and the waterfowl swam off to complain to its siblings. Well, at least she was teaching the stupid things.

"Can I help you, Sir?"

"Oh nothing," Crowley said calmly. "Just making sure you don't overstep your boundaries. This little group bath is pushing it."

The tension grew. "Understood, Sir."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guh, this was kinda depressing, no? Gotta keep our favorite demon in character though! This is sorta the transition between when Bambi adores Crowley and then hates him. I'd hate him too if he told me I was ugly every day and didn't get to keep baby swans! Good thing our gal has thick skin though, eh?


	8. Chapter 8

"Shit," Dean mumbled to himself as he got out of his car. "Not again with the killing the hunters thing. This is getting ridiculous. How many's this make? Four?"

"Four."

"Damn," Dean grumbled as he opened the trunk, pulling out the usual weapons they needed to keep their asses out of trouble. He threw a rifle and knife to Sammy and armed himself with a pistol and the Colt…just in case.

Sam was second to emerge from the car as usual. "At least we can cross vengeance off the motive list for that baby if it's even her. This place stinks."

The home of Bud O'Daniel was a home for anyone no longer; it was now a filthy tomb for the unprepared dead hunter. His corpse had been rotting for at least five days. The cops hadn't even caught wind of the place yet...probably never would either. He was so out of touch with society that no one missed him except Bobby. Isn't that pitiful? No one misses a hunter but a fellow hunter…sometimes not even that. Damn, Dean hoped he died in a badass blaze of glory. Bobby had been in touch with the guy, and then he fell off the radar after a night of beers in Sioux Falls before he returned to his little mobile home in Wisconsin. So within that amount of time, who or what could've done this? They already had a suspect: the Leatherby kid. Neither of them wanted to investigate it though if that really was the case. How old would it be...only 20 maybe 21? Dean didn't think he could kill someone young enough to be his own kid. The house smelled of decay and decomposition. If it was anything like the Leatherby scene, Dean just might need a barf bag, and he never got sick on missions. Ever. That kinda shit just wasn't manly.

As soon as they walked in, the Winchesters were choked with the stench of death. Blood was caked on the wood floor in puddles, making a gorey trail to follow. Dean was just glad Sammy made him pass that Burger joint in the last city. Flies gathered in the half-rotted eyes of Bud, greedily stealing the moisture and ooze that was left behind. He became a nursery to eggs and writhing maggots that wriggled both on and under the skin. The stench was incredible. The air was rank with sweat, blood, fear, and decay. It was near impossible to recognize the twisted bloated corpse; Sam had to get close to recognize the face. The first thing he noticed is that it was contorted by agony. Shit, what did this person do to him? It was almost comparable to...to Alastair. His wounds were horrendous: one ear had been completely cut off, and his nose had been smashed to a bloody pulp and made his brains ooze out of the nostrils, but the worst was the bloody mess that was once his stomach. A huge gash crossed from his bottom left rib to his right hip. His entrails lay in glistening ropes around his legs. He could probably hang himself with them if he wanted to.

Sam thought he may puke. "Dean," he said softly.

"Fuck. Come on, Sammy. Let's just burn the place down and let the cops deal with it. This is a lost cause."

"Same kid?"

"Has to be. She left a calling card," he said, holding up a strand of hair in a ziplock.

Sam glared at the baggy for a moment, then leaned over the corpse and started to drag it out. He had one arm under the legs and the other supporting the shoulders. Stopping, and controlling his rising gorge, he stuffed the bowels back in and picked him back up. He used a towel to keep the organs from falling out anymore. Dean just followed behind, watching as Sam laid the corpse out on the grass. There was no way in any circle of Hell that he was touching that. It wasn't that they knew the guy, but he was a fellow hunter. That's why Sam gave him special treatment, Dean figured. He deserved a proper hunter's funeral. The two quietly salt and gassed the poor bastard before torching him and moving onto the house. As they were leaving though, Dean broke the silence.

"Dude, you're not getting in Baby with all that shit on your hands."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I dunno. Just get somethin' done," Dean barked before locking himself into Baby's upholstered interior. No dirty Sammy was allowed."Shit," Dean mumbled to himself as he got out of his car. "Not again with the killing the hunters thing. This is getting ridiculous. How many's this make? Four?"

"Four."

"Damn," Dean grumbled as he opened the trunk, pulling out the usual weapons they needed to keep their asses out of trouble. He threw a rifle and knife to Sammy and armed himself with a pistol and the Colt…just in case.

Sam was second to emerge from the car as usual. "At least we can cross vengeance off the motive list for that baby...if it's even her. God, this place stinks."

The home of Bud O'Daniel was a home for anyone no longer; it was now a filthy tomb for the unprepared dead hunter. His corpse had been rotting for at least five days...probably a lot more. The cops hadn't even caught wind of the place yet...probably never would either. Bud was so out of touch with society that no one missed him except maybe Bobby. Wasn't that just pitiful? No one misses a hunter but a fellow hunter…sometimes not even that. Damn, Dean hoped he died in a badass blaze of glory while taking a few thousand baddies with him. 

Bobby had been in touch with the guy, and then he fell off the radar after a night of beers in Sioux Falls before he returned to his little mobile home in Wisconsin. So within that amount of time, who or what could've done this? They already had a suspect: the Leatherby kid. Neither of them wanted to investigate it though if that really was the case. How old would it be...only 20, maybe 21? Dean didn't think he could kill someone young enough to be his own kid. The house smelled of decay and decomposition. If it was anything like the Leatherby scene, Dean just might need a barf bag, and he never got sick on missions. Ever. That kinda shit just wasn't manly.

As soon as they walked in, the Winchesters were choked with the stench of death. Blood was caked on the linoleum floor in puddles, making a gory trail. Dean was just glad Sammy made him pass that Burger joint in the last city. Flies gathered in the half-rotted eyes of Bud, greedily stealing the moisture and ooze that was left behind. He was a nursery to eggs and writhing maggots that wriggled both on and under the skin. The stench was incredible. The air was rank with sweat, blood, fear, and decay. It was near impossible to recognize the twisted, bloated corpse; Sam had to get close to recognize the face. The first thing he noticed was that the face was contorted in agony. Shit, what did this person do to him? It was almost comparable to...to Alastair. His wounds were horrendous: one ear had been completely cut off, and his nose had been smashed to a bloody pulp and made his brains ooze out of the nostrils, but the worst was the bloody mess that was once his stomach. A huge gash crossed from his bottom left rib to his right hip. His entrails lay in glistening ropes around his legs. He could probably hang himself with them if he wanted to.

Sam thought he may puke. "Dean," he said softly.

"Fuck. Come on, Sammy. Let's just burn the place down and let the cops deal with it. This is a lost cause."

"Same kid?"

"Has to be."

Sam glared at the body for a moment, then leaned over the corpse and started to drag it out. He had one arm under the legs and the other supporting the shoulders. Stopping, and controlling his rising gorge, he stuffed the bowels back in and picked him back up. He used a towel to keep the organs from falling out anymore. Dean just followed behind, watching as Sam laid the corpse out on the grass. There was no way in any circle of Hell that he was touching that. It wasn't that they knew the guy, but he was a fellow hunter. That's why Sam gave him special treatment, Dean figured. He deserved a proper hunter's funeral. The two quietly salted and gassed the poor bastard before torching him and moving onto the house. As they were leaving though, Dean broke the silence.

"Dude, you're not getting in Baby with all that shit on your hands."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"I dunno. Just get somethin' done," Dean barked before locking himself into Baby's upholstered interior. No dirty Sammy was allowed. 

"Come on, Dean!"

"Just go over there and use that hose! Damn wuss."

 

* * *

Bambi took a deep breath as she lay crouching in a bush. The area was well forested, so it left her plenty of opportunities for aiming. She adjusted her scope and adjusted the gun, pressing the butt of the rifle against her shoulder. She could see the Impala perfectly. Dean Winchester was sitting in the driver's seat, looking through some kind of papers. Sam was a few feet away using a water hose to clean her mess off of his hands. She had a clear shot at Dean and had to report in before taking fire.

She turned on her communication piece and hunkered down, still looking through the scope at her target. The oldest Winchester was quite an attractive man. The younger one was okay, but he looked too...angsty. It was a shame really that their looks would be marred by one of her pretty little bullets. "Myling One to Demon King."

"I'm here," Crowley's voice came in. "About time you called in. I was getting bored."

"Black Squirrel is in sight."

"What about a Big Moose?"

"Negative. Out of range. Permission to fire on Black Squirrel?"

There was along pause. 

Bambi took that as a go ahead and put her finger on the trigger. 

"Don't pursue."

"Alright."


	9. Chapter 9

It had been a long week by Bambi's standards, and by the time she was finished covering her tracks and got time to actually get to Hell, she was exhausted. After seeing Earth and staying there for long durations, Hell always seemed a little...eerie when she was alone. It wasn't the human screams of agony or the cackles of their dastardly attackers. There were demons everywhere, and the majority of them wanted nothing more than to viciously devour her. She was a living breathing human after all. Yawning, Bambi opened the door to Crowley's office while knocking and there sat the bastard, a frown curdling his face. She was unprepared for that look, so she froze there in the doorway like some pathetic sitting duck.

"Close the door," his voice boomed. 

She stayed glued to that spot. 

"I said, close. The damn. Door." 

Bambi turned and shut the door slowly. Before she could do more, the locks clicked into place by themselves.  "Why were you spying on me?" Bambi asked as she sat down with a monotonous expression.

"You know the answer to that."

"It's my personal time. You had no right, and you know it."

"We need to talk."

The air felt like it had escaped the room, and Bambi started to get tunnel-vision. Usually when he "needed to talk," it involved something bad. Very, very bad. By the end he was usually sending her on a three day trip with Alastair. He was dead though...so what would Crowley do? The thought of being sent to Lilith or someone worse made her tense up. 

"About what?"

"The question is, what do you want? But I think I've already seen the answer," he remarked, showing a picture of her at the bar kissing Bobby's cheek.

Bambi frowned. What the Hell was going on with him? He usually never cared who she hung around with or saw outside of work. Why did he suddenly care? And how did he get that fucking picture?! "But that was-"

"Quiet!" he roared, using his power to make her chair levitate and drop with a thud. "I know what it was. You like that fat bastard...but not as much as you like me right, love?"

"What?" she paled. Impossible. How the hell did he know about that?

"You aren't nearly as discreet as you think," he stood and sauntered around his desk to lean in front of her. "You think I don't notice? The way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. The way your cheeks flush when you're reporting in. Do you think you hide it?"

Bambi, by now, was a sniveling mess in her chair. She could hardly move even if she had to. He knew the whole. Fucking. Time. Of course he did. It was Crowley! Well, that was rather embarrassing if she did say so herself. By now she was probably eight shades of red darker.

"So now the question becomes, do you leave and pretend this never happened, or," An eerie smile crept across his face, and his eyes narrowed. "You can find out what I'm really like. How much better I am than any drunk you find in some bar. But if you stay, you will do what I want, you will be mine."

Bambi nodded. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to feel him next to her. She would have done anything to make him happy just as it was when she was a child. Anything. 

"I-I want...to stay," she whispered shakily, his body so close to hers. Crowley was like a fucking drug.

"That's my girl," he growled in her ear, his breath heavy. "Let's start, sweet cheeks," he leaned in immediately, slamming his mouth onto Bambi's. His tongue was urgent and demanding, his teeth grazing her lips threateningly. One hand snaked up under her thick black hair and wrapped around the nape of her neck. He tasted like alcohol and blood and sulphur. "First things first: Stand up."

Bambi slid up off the chair and stood.

"Now your shirt and skirt." 

Once again, Bambi instinctively obeyed. 

"Perfect. Now turn around." She felt the heat of his gaze on her body. "Bollocks…good girl." 

Bambi heard Crowley stand before he wrapped his arms around her. She tensed when she felt his erection flush against her back, his hands on her bare flesh. He reached around and unclasped her bra a little too easily for her comfort, as if he'd done it a million times before. That was so creepy...maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Bambi crossed her arms, covering her naked breasts. 

"Did I tell you to do that?" Crowley growled.

Bambi's stomach fell to the floor at the darkness in his voice. "N-No."

"Say my name when you address me, love. You know what it does to me under the trousers," he hissed in her ear like a fucking viper.

"No, Crowley."

"No. I most definitely did not tell you you could do that. Put your arms down before I saw them off." 

Bambi did as she was told, nervously straightening her arms. 

"There's a good girl, sweet cheeks. Put your arms behind your back…Turn around and get on your knees." Crowley unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, pushing them along with his boxers, to the floor. He sat back down, legs akimbo. Holy mother of Sin, he was massive. That whole double digits thing wasn't a lie; every meatsuit he took had that requirement. Bambi knelt, a bit uncomfortable with her arms behind her back; she had nothing to hold onto for balance. "Why don't you show me what else that pretty mouth is good for other than your incessant blathering?" Crowley grabbed her by the hair and pulled her towards him as she instinctively opened her mouth. "I want you to go all the way down, and then I want you to stop and wait for me to tell you when you can come up. Got it?"

"Yes, Crowley."

"Begin." 

Bambi opened her mouth and began licking around the tip, then sucking gently, working her way down. Gradually, her jaw loosened as she pushed further, finally feeling the tip against the back of my throat. Bambi tried as hard as she could not to gag, to hold her breath, but it was nearly impossible. She, of course, failed, coughing slightly and pulling back up. 

"That was horrible, love. Again."

Bambi nodded, opening her mouth and pushing down, feeling the strain against the corners of her mouth, then grazing her throat as she held her breath. But it was impossible. She choked. "Fuck. I-I can't."

"That's a lame ass excuse."

Bambi glanced up, and she saw darkness in his eyes. She was more than a little scared. She was even more terrified-and much to her shock, excited-to see a cat-o-nine tails conjure in his hand. The thing looked horrifying and gruesome with blood caked on it. The leather had glass, thorns and shards of weapons in it. An exited shudder slipped out of her mouth. "Stand up," he commanded gruffly. He came up behind her, shifting her hair while kissing a trail down her neck. His fingers slid down her abdomen in between her legs. "You are a filthy girl aren't you? So wet."

"I can be your filthy girl," she whispered, trying to gain any amount of control.

Crowley chuckled as he withdrew from her. "I like that, sweet cheeks. But first things first." 

Suddenly, the searing heat of the whip attacked her back. Bambi bit her lip to keep from screaming. Another hit, and the pain was twice as bad as before. It was so bad, she fell to her hands and knees. Blood dripped down her back, arms and legs. Another lash tore through her back, causing rivulets to pour down her limbs. A sob ripped through her chest as she cried out. She wasn't sure she could take any more. He pushed a finger into her, and Bambi inhaled sharply. The contact...the pressure...finally. Crowley grabbed her hips, pulling her close. He waited. She could hear his breathing, heavy but unhurried. Suddenly he slammed into her mercilessly. Bambi screamed. She couldn't tell what felt good and what felt bad anymore. 

"Quiet!" he smacked her ass, and then slammed into her again. 

Bambi tried to relax, but every time he pushed into her, she could feel a moan trying to escape. The feeling of his cock, stretching and filling her was overwhelming. His voice...his touch...his smell. Bambi's whole body was on fire, and she could barely breathe. Reaching down, he grabbed a fistful of hair, pulling tight. 

"Oh yes, that's a good girl. Your cunt is magnificent. So tight…yes. Take it." He leaned over Bambi, gaining more leverage, and thrust into her, further now, little grunts of pleasure falling from his lips. His chest pressed into her cuts, making her back burn. He grabbed her hips, his fingers digging into her pale flesh. "I want to hear you scream my name." His breath quickened along with his thrusts. Bambi consciously tightened her muscles around his shaft, forcing her orgasm out of hiding.

"C-Crowley!" Drowning, her breath gone, all that was left was bliss. Her voice disappeared, the climax too much, her body on sensory overload.

"Say it again!"

"C-Crow...ley," Bambi gasped, desperate to comply, desperate to make every nerve in his body explode.

"Fuck!" he collapsed on top of her, still moaning. After a long silence, he finally said something. "You alright, sweet cheeks?" he asked, smirking at his work.

"No...I don't know. I-" Bambi stopped, her mind was unable to process what was going on.

He pulled out of Bambi, and she felt an immediate sense of loneliness. "Get into bed."

"What be-" Bambi gawked as she looked around the room. They weren't in his office. This was a bedroom with black walls lit by torches. It looked like some freaky torture chamber. Shit. How long had they been here? Why was this room unfamiliar? It must be Crowley's room, she thought as she sat down on the large bed. It was a firm mattress covered with black satin sheets. She crawled back and got under the blankets, laying her head on a soft, downy pillow on her stomach. 

She felt someone sit behind her and saw Crowley. "So...you want me to be-"

"Yes, I want you to be mine...to belong to me. I don't want to give it a dumbass label, so suffice it to say you're mine. You will obey me, and I'll make decisions for you. We'll discuss it further tomorrow," he said before pressing his hand to the back of Bambi's neck. Her eyes suddenly felt heavy with sleep, and Crowley's presence left her there.


	10. Chapter 10

Bambi groaned and rolled over onto her side as the alarm on her phone went off for the ninety-bajillionth time. She reached under her pillow, blindly feeling around when she realized she wasn't in her room. Where was her phone? Her knife? Her gun? Eyes wide in terror, she shot up and looked around, instincts automatically going into killer mode. It actually took a little while for Bambi to remember what had happened. When she did remember though, she turned four different shades of red. Dear Lord of Hell, that actually happened?! It happened to her of all people. The thought made her smirk as she curled up under the soft blankets again. The bed was vacant except for her. Everything was so damn immaculate and unwelcoming and pristine. Typical Crowley...he always wanted perfection.

Bambi winced as she moved again. Her back hurt like a son of a bitch from the whipping Crowley gave her; it was worth it though. She looked at her back through the wall on the ceiling and noticed white gauze over the lashes. She pulled up the gauze and noticed the lashes were fairly healed. Crowley must've done something. Well, maybe he wasn't so bad. Sighing, Bambi grabbed her phone and checked the screen as she thumbed the password in to shut the damn thing up.

_** WAKE UP CALL 6AM ** _

She buried her face in the pillows again and thought about getting up. If she got up, she could find something to eat in this place, but if she stayed, Crowley might come find her. That was not a good idea. He probably expected her to be long gone. Bambi groaned as she stood and walked out of the bedroom...well, it was more of a shuffle. She knew this place like the back of her hand. Hell, she was raised here; however, this part of Hell was unfamiliar to her. It took her nearly five minutes to actually find Crowley's office which was the first familiar thing she'd seen all day. Bambi knocked and let herself in after no response. He wasn't there. She felt like being sneaky though, so she decided to shut the door behind her. 

She started going through Crowley's shelves; she had nothing better to do. She found an old log book which she figured was code for "Crowley's Diary." Grinning she went to open it, but just as she was about to, she felt a chill shoot down her spine. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

"I wondered why my bitch sense was tingling," Crowley's voice purred over her shoulder. 

Bambi tensed when Crowley's hand started slithering over her throat. She put the book down and he smirked. Like a fucking bomb, the dude just suddenly diffused and pulled Bambi out of his chair before pulling her right back into his lap. "Sit down, pet. I've been waiting for you to wake up. I wondered where you escaped to."

"Waiting?" Bambi asked. "How long have I-"

"Three Earth days. So," he said snapping, making a glass of Craig appear in his hand. "You are well, sweet cheeks?"

"Fine," she mumbled.

"Good. Now that we're done with the usual pleasantries, I'd like to talk about our arrangement."

Bambi jumped as his free hand started moving in a possessive motion on the swell of her hip. It was like a snake threatening to strike if she made a wrong move. A blush tainted her pale cheeks and she suddenly felt very, very uncomfortable. Hell, she'd rather be enduring rack training than this sort of conversation, but what could she honestly do about it? Crowley grinned with a cat-and-cream smirk. Shit. He knew he had the upper hand too.

"I have a few rules you're going to follow. I want you to wear dresses or skirts, no slacks. I want you to wear your hair down. I want you to wear either lace or satin undergarments, not cotton. I-"

"Wait a fucking second! I'm going to have to have a whole wardrobe change just for you."

Crowley scowled and suddenly Bambi couldn't breathe. Her eyes bulged and she clawed at her throat until Crowley finally released her. "I want no tights or hose. And you always refer to me. Understood?"

Bambi nodded, still touching her throat warily while eyeing him.

"Perfect, darling," Crowley purred. "Now stand in front of me...good. We have a little time before I send you off."

"Wait. Send me off where?"

"Turn around," his voice began to lower. Anticipation and tension crept through the room. He stood, his hands wandering over Bambi's still-clothed body. As his hands slithered under her skirt, she jumped and gasped slightly. Geez, for a demon his hands were cold as Hell. "No sounds."

"Yes, Crowley."

Wrapping his arms around her hips, the Crossroads King slid a hand between her legs. "Oh you dirty girl. You're wet already," he growled in her ear, biting it harshly. "Are you wet for me?"

"Yes, Crowley."  Bambi could feel him knot her wrists together tightly. The silky fabric felt like a tie, but she couldn't be certain. Her mouth watered at the idea of it being his tie though. 

"Now I want you to bend over the desk. Turn your face to the side...excellent." 

The cool surface of the desk was soothing against her increasingly hot skin. The suspense, though, of what he'd do was agony. Suddenly, the metal of a belt struck her hard, directly on the ass, interrupting her pleas and causing Bambi to yelp.  Reaching down he grabbed Bambi by the hair, pulling her neck up into a vulnerable position. 

"No sounds!" He whipped Bambi again; he hit so hard she had to hold her breath to keep from screaming. He might just kill her. Her back was already sore from being whipped, so each time the belt hit it was like being hit again with the whip. Searing pain exploded along Bambi's soft back, and she jumped and writhed under his hand. She felt his knee shove her leg out further. "Good girl. I bet you're dripping," he pushed three fingers in, and Bambi grunted at his abruptness. "Oh yes, you are, aren't you? Like a bitch in heat."

He immediately withdrew and positioned himself at her entrance, his head just barely in her slit, moving around in tiny little circles, taunting her. Dear Lucifer, this was torture if the worst kind! Grabbing her bound wrists, Crowley pulled her back onto his erection, sliding in slowly, languidly. Then, drawing back out he slammed in. Again and again, over and over, Bambi's insides vibrating. He started sinking his teeth into her neck and shoulders, leaving teeth marks and hickies. He even bit her jaw and drew blood dammit! How would she cover that up?! 

"Yes, take it," he groaned, fucking her, his hips unyielding. He clawed at her skin like he was trying to get her to shed. Then, Crowley slit a knife across her arm. That did it for her. Bambi's walls tightened around him as her climax hit her, and Crowley followed several minutes and cuts later. When he was done, he redressed and sat back with a sigh, pulling a redressed Bambi onto his lap. "Come here darling," his voice purred, much sweeter now. "You're going to watch a few vampires in North Dakota. They're doing some business for me. I'll call with more details," he growled as he kissed her, his mouth tasting like burning liquor before he sent her off.


	11. Chapter 11

Damn Crowley.   


  
Damn him and his stupid need for overly rough sex. Everything on Bambi felt raw and sore. Hell, she was sore in places she didn't even know existed! As soon as she stepped into the Sioux Falls University Library though, things just got worse. All the librarians gave her either shocked or disgusted stares as she stepped into the back offices and into the employee bathroom to see what the fuss was about. Shit. She was covered in bruises, cuts and hickeys, and that was only what they could see with all her stuffy layers on. Bambi was wearing a black turtleneck with a black leather skirt and boots, and it took her nearly thirty minutes to get the worst of her marks covered in makeup. She couldn't take doing this on a regular basis. Changes would have to be made. 

With a huff, Bambi gave up and pulled out a scarf and wrapped it around her neck. Better. She decided to get to work on the books she had to finish shelving. Since she was the youngest and most limber of the librarians by nearly twenty years, she always got book stacking duty while the others read to children or checked out visitors. Bambi stepped out, ignoring the stares of her coworkers, and pushed the cart of books to the nonfiction section where she could hide in self-shame. It didn't really make much sense for her to keep a job when she was in Hell so often, but she had one anyway. Books were always a great fascination to her mostly because she had such a...unique childhood. It was more like no childhood. No one ever gave her much attention, so she turned to books as surrogates.

"Bambi? The Hell happened to you?"

Bambi turned to the voice with an eyebrow raised. Her eyes automatically met Bobby's and a blush of embarrassment coated her cheeks. Wait, why was she embarrassed? Why did she care what he thought? She was only supposed to care what Crowley thought. "Oh, hello Bobby. Are you here for more books?" she asked, dodging the question.

"Returning them. The Hell happened?"

"Oh...it's nothing. I fell; there's no reason for you to be worried."

Bobby grabbed Bambi by the wrist, making her stumble slightly. "Since when does falling leave finger shaped bruises?" he asked as he stared at her wrist.

Bambi pulled her hand away slowly and averted her gaze. Damn. What could she say to that? 'I had hot sex with a demon who's kinda like my father.' Yeah, that would go over well, especially with a hunter. She sighed and continued to shelf books. "If there's nothing else-"

"Is somebody hurtin' you?"

"What? N-No, of course not."

"Is it a guy?"

Bambi tensed. What part of no wasn't he getting?! "Why the fuck do you care anyway?" she snapped, a part of her mask falling away. 

No longer was she the doe eyed beauty who was meek and had sex appeal. She was evil; she was raised to be a ruthless animal. A killer. A tool. Why the Hell would he be nice to her? She didn't deserve it. If he knew the truth, he'd have a gun aimed between her eyes. A pang of something hit her chest, and she huffed. Damn emotions. They were pointless in her profession. 

"You wanna talk about it?" Bobby asked. It startled Bambi. How could he still care? "We can go to my place and get you a beer. I'm sure you could use it with all the stuck up broads givin' ya the evil eye."

"I-I-" she muttered.

Why the Hell was he being so nice to her? It wasn't like she ever did anything for him. He wasn't giving in either. Surely he didn't actually...y'know...care. It was sorta creeping her out. She clenched her jaw and looked around. Maybe talking wouldn't be such a bad thing, and maybe while she was there she could get some information. That way Crowley wouldn't kill her for seeing this hunter again. She agreed and went back to working, telling Bobby she would be by after work. He bought it of course because for some reason he trusted her...cared about her. Big mistake.

 

* * *

An hour after work, Bambi drove to Bobby's run down shack and knocked. He seemed surprised that she showed up, but she noticed that he was smirking too like he was happy to see her of all people. He probably didn't get much company. She guessed as much when she saw the inside. As soon as she stepped in, Bambi could practically feel the presence of supernatural objects. She paused only slightly before she continued pressing further into the house. It was nice once you got inside it, but dear Lucifer, did this man never clean?! It was worse than the fucking foyer. She stepped over a pile of papers into the kitchen and saw Bobby grabbing two glasses and some booze. Oh yeah, she was supposed to be here to confide in Bobby about...well, Crowley.

"So...a guy did this to ya?"

"Um...yeah, he tends to get a little over zealous when he's angry...or happy."

"That's puttin' it lightly." He was looking at her neck.

"Well...it's not his fault really. He's busy at...at work, and he just doesn't have that much patience. Plus he...he kind of likes to be rough," she said after downing her first glass of liquor. Jeez this was embarrassing. More embarrassing than it should've been.

"You should get out. Take it from someone who knows; my old man was always beatin' on my mom."

"Well, I-I can't really. I-"

"You can stay here if ya need to," Bobby offered. He was sitting beside her kinda close, and she smiled softly. She enjoyed the gentle attention she was receiving. She hadn't received affection in so long...maybe ever. But honestly, she shouldn't have been enjoying this.

"I'll be fine," Bambi smiled. "I promise to stay at a motel."

Bobby seemed satisfied with that response and signified it by nodding and taking a swig. Bambi realized that maybe she didn't really want to leave. Before she knew what in the fuck she was doing, Bambi actually kissed Bobby. It was short and abrupt, but it was gentle, not ferocious. It was a first in a way for her. Bobby seemed tense before sliding a hand behind her neck, holding her head there. However, it was rather short lived because an alarm went off on Bambi's phone. She pulled away from Bobby, a little shocked that she actually did that.

"I-I have to go," she mumbled before running out.

 

* * *

Bambi stood overlooking the destruction she had created. The scene filled her with grotesque euphoria; she couldn't help but smirk at her gorgeous handiwork. She hadn't seen anything more magnificent, more grandiose, and she was proud.  The body of her victim was sliced, bleeding. The blood pumped from his neck in a rush of wild red fury, and Bambi couldn't help but bite her lip in passion; these kills always sexually excited her. There was just something about the way they begged her to spare their lives. She was in control for once. 

She  had enjoyed the feel of the knife cutting through his victim's skin. That last exhale of breath, that finality of inevitable death, was madly brilliant.  The veins in her victim's body were bright blue as he struggled for breath.  Blood pooled beneath the table her victim nailed to. She looked down into the eyes of her victim. She could see the life draining from them as he silently begged for help and forgiveness. Bambi wouldn't give him any.

Finally she took a chainsaw and cut open the victim's chest, the thrill of the blood splattering across the protected walls and ceiling flooding her veins. Bambi took a deep breath and grimaced at the irony of the action. She  loved cutting victims into pieces. Their identity no longer mattered. No one would know or care that they were gone; she was in complete control of their fate and destiny and it always ended.


	12. Chapter 12

Bambi stood quietly in Crowley's LA home with nothing but one of his dress shirts and a pair of boy shorts on. She was going for minimalism in case Crowley came back from wherever he ran off to and wanted—of course—sex. The day had been going rather well after Crowley left; she cleaned and did some reading even until a pungent smoky scent hit her. Suddenly, she heard the slam of a door, making her jump and reach for the knife she was making lunch with. Instead of seeing some kamikaze burglar, she only got a glimpse of someone hurtling into the kitchen, followed by the sound of cabinets being rifled through by an unseen force. What the Hell? Before Bambi could speak or even move, the intruder darted to the front room. Wait a second, was that...was that Crowley?! Sure enough, upon further inspection, Crowley was busily making a salt line over the threshold. Meanwhile, a piece of charcoal was scribbling patterns and sigils across the door and the floors. Well…that was an odd sight.

"What in the Hell are you doing, Crowley?! That's mahogany! Hey! I just vacuumed, dammit!"

"Bambi, would you be a dear and shut the fuck up!" Crowley snapped without looking up from his task. He looked so deranged and desperate, she noted. What had gotten him so damn nervous? "Go pour holy water and salt around the windows and the back door since you aren't doing anything productive."

"Why? What's happening?"

"Lucifer found out I gave the Colt to those dumbass Winchesters. He's sending a horde of demons this way. They've already gotten my office...lost the damn tailor."

"Shit." Bambi barked, grabbing the ingredients and securing the house. While she was finishing up in the back, Bambi heard a low roar that built until it rattled the glass panes, making her run back to the kitchen for safety. But...oh fuck.

Crowley was gone. He actually left her there to fend for herself?! If she ever saw that asshat again, she'd rip him to fucking shreds. Now what not the time to disappear on her! Bambi screamed for Crowley, running through the house looking for him. How could he just leave her like this? Well, it's not like she didn't expect it of him...but still. Bambi suddenly realized that maybe Bobby was right after all; she should've gotten out when she had the chance. She should've stayed with him that night. The house gave another rumble, and something outside let out a snarl. Shit. The salt wouldn't hold up much longer; she'd have to take out as many as she could before she went down. Shuddering, she stood at the door...they were ramming into it.

Five…four…three…two…one…

* * *

Crowley reappeared in his home. He was here for one last thing: Bambi. He called for her when he felt the salt line break and heard the demons charging in. Where the fuck was she? They needed to get out of there. Now! This was no time to be playing hide and seek. A single muffled scream amidst the excited howling caught his attention. Shit. He ran—yes, ran—to the sound. The room was swarming with demons in vessels out of vessels, black clouds and hulking shapes with too many limbs and teeth, all clawing and hissing and snarling in their struggle to get a piece of Bambi. Not on his watch, that piece of ass was his!

"Bollocks," he grunted. She was fighting with that Meg bitch.

Crowley slithered up and docked one of the bigger blokes in the head, making blood gush before his neck was snapped. The familiar cloud of black escaped, and Crowley let it. He was there to get his things and leave not kill. He'd get to that part later. He picked up the abandoned rifle and started blasting heads like it was a hobby of his. When he finally got to Bambi...shit, she looked a mess. There was blood everywhere; damn, this was taking too long. At least nothing looked broken from where he was standing. Crowley ripped Meg away from Bambi with a snarl and got out of there just in time. When he made it to the safe house, Bambi was still fairly lucid. She looked so vulnerable and innocent…so damn hot. Fuck, he wanted to sink his teeth into her right then. What he could do to make her scream sent heat up his spine. He'd have to clean her up first.

"Moron. Did you really think you stood a chance? Why the Hell didn't you fucking hide?" he asked as he walked up the moldy stairs.

"Please," Bambi rolled her only still-good eye as Crowley dropped her none too gently on the dingy mattress. Maybe cleanup wasn't so necessary, he thought as he crawled over her. She just looked…so delectable.

"Crowley! What the He-"

Lust roiled up in his gut like a tidal wave. "Shut up," he snapped as he nibbled her ear. "Once we're done, I'll clean you up. Don't you fucking dare deny me this, sweet cheeks," he snarled into her ear as he peeled her clothes away. "You'll regret it if you do."

"Y-Yes, Crowley."

A sadistic grin broke over his face and a growl erupted from his throat as he lapped up tacky blood. Holy father of all things nasty, she was so fucking delectable. "Good girl."


	13. Chapter 13

Through the dank silence of the motel room, the phone sang out, ringing a chilling melody that echoed off the walls. Was that…was that Metallica? Must've been Dean's phone, Sammy thought as he rolled over and tried to ignore the annoyingly loud device. A second ring blared through the darkness just as Sam was falling back into sleep's warm embrace; how in the name of God was Dean sleeping through all this?! Sammy finally reached out and opened the phone with a groan, cradling the cold metal between his fleshy cheek and collarbone as he sat up in his bed. "Yeah," he grumbled as he rubbed his eyes blearily.

"Sam, s'at you?" Bobby's southern drawl asked through the phone. Well, he sounded rather awake. Jerk.

"Yeah, it's me. What'd ya want? It's…three in the morning."

"Listen," Bobby said loudly. Sam thought he heard computer keys clicking in the background. Wait, Bobby had a computer?! "I know it's late, but there was a murder on the outside of Buffalo, New York. Looks like your serial killer."

Sam woke up instantly, looking at the photo he kept of the killer's back. He was getting fixated on her; he wanted to kill her with his bare hands like she did to all those hunters. "Another hunter?"

"I'd figure so."

"Uh...okay. Thanks, Bobby," Sam said, shuffling around and trying hard to get ready. He wanted to get to that crime scene before the cops started screwing around and moving stuff. "Dean. Dean, come on! We got a case near here."

Dean groaned through his pillow. "It's barely three in the morning, dad. Sammy's sleepy too, see?" he said, holding up a pillow. Wow…

"C'mon," Sam said, nudging his elder bother as he brushed his teeth and pulled his jeans on. "Bobby thinks that our serial killer hit Buffalo. It'll be good to take our minds off of the horsemen and Lucifer for a while."

Dean sighed and lifted his head just enough to get a drink of stale beer. He grimaced. "Gimme a few."

* * *

The streets were rather empty in Buffalo at six in the morning. Dean was bitching about six being a blasphemous hour to be up, and Sam actually agreed with him for once. Fog shrouded the buildings as if it were a blanket. The flashing of police lights were the Winchesters' only guide as they rolled down the dirt driveway and further into the countryside. The only company the two brothers had was each other and Journey as they sang at the top of their screeching lungs. For the eight-thousandth time, Sam asked Dean to turn it down. When they got out of the car, a faint crisp, winter breeze slapped Sam's cheeks teasingly, and it stung him bitterly. With well-rehearsed pride, Sam straightened and headed towards whoever looked like the man in charge. He was an old man with a beer gut and glasses that magnified his eyes under bushy white brows. He looked kind of like a blondish-grey Santa Claus with hazy black eyes. As he approached, he put on his best smile. He should've gone to acting school instead of law school. "Hey, I'm Agent Romanov, and that's Agent Barton. We're the leading agents for this case with the FBI," he said as he and his brother flashed their badges.

An unfriendly silence festered for a moment or two between the three. Well, maybe he wasn't so good at acting. Were they caught? "FBI, huh? Well, that makes sense I guess," he said, hacking and couching into his sleeve. "Have at it, kids."

Sam and Dean moved forward in a swift motion, bravely and blindly walking to the truck that was veered over onto the side of the road. Apparently a young woman taking a daily jog happened upon the truck and was worried. When she looked in, she tried to revive the cold corpse and called 911. They took the woman to the hospital for shock. They granted no heed to the flimsy "Do Not Cross" tape that neatly fenced the scene of the crime either. Ducking under it with ease, Sam watched the scene unfold, come to life almost. Men were on guard as they passed and forensics were being collected into baggies and tiny jars. Suddenly, a chill rushed up Sam's spine when he caught a whiff of that sweet, rotting smell that mingled with the strong scent of blood. This body was decomposing at a rather fast pace. What the Hell kind of person could do this? He and Dean could handle the supernatural, but this...this was another human like them that was killing. It made Sammy want to gag when they saw the body in the driver's seat of the truck. If he ever found that killer, he'd strangle her.

The harsh light of flashlights illuminated something red, soaked in blood, stringy and splattered over what must have been the chest cavity. Sam donned gloves and extended a hand, reaching boldly. Upon contact, the tissue made a grotesque squelching noise. Something morbidly white, snagged his vision upon further examination. He poked it...it must have been an arm…either that or her spinal column. In fascinated horror, he observed the torn ligaments, the skin with so many cuts and tears. The skin was baby soft...like a woman's but laced with ribbons of red and shreds of organs in shades of brown and deep pinkish grey. That's when Dean returned from chatting up a forensics specialist. He had a baggie in his hand, and he definitely didn't look very happy. There were strands of dark hair tied together. Dean said they were on the dashboard originally. So…it was her. Who was the victim then?

"Who was this?" Sam mumbled. "I can hardly tell who she is."

"Oh God," Dean said as he knelt down by Sam. "Sammy, this is that woman from down South. She helped us with that Kitsune when dad got the flu and got hospitalized in '98."

The woman Dean spoke of was Mexican in race with short, spiky black hair and big blue eyes. Both Sam and Dean had wet dreams for years after they met her. Sam even saw her in the shower once on accident. Her name was Anna Sofia. If this…this was her, Sam couldn't tell. A forensics woman came to Sam with a piece of paper and a finger in a jar. It was pink. Anna Sofia always painted her nails pink. Sam was pale as a sheet as he looked down at the DNA confirmation; it was her. "We just saw her...a-at Bobby's."

"You don't think?" Dean asked, fearing the worst. No, no, no. That couldn't happen. They couldn't let this freak get Bobby too.

"Yeah, I do," Sam said as he stood, removing his bloody gloves and trashing them. "I think DemonicMuse is going after Bobby."

"C'mon. We're going. That son of a bitch just left us a clue."

"What?"

"A partial print," Dean said with a rather…evil grin.


	14. Chapter 14

Bambi was sitting at her tiny desk in the back of the library with a hot cup of coffee. Her head was pounding from the long five months she'd had in that damn safe house. Apparently Crowley couldn't handle not having a piece of ass at his beck and call every moment of every damn day. Thankfully, Lucifer was re-sealed in his cage; they were safe thanks to a pair of wannabe hunters and some old man. Crowley called them "Moose" and "Squirrel" most of the time. She was given permission to leave the moldy old home to return to her small hotel room in Sioux Falls. No one understood how happy she was to have some normalcy back in her life. Oh dear Lucifer...she sounded just like Crowley! Anything but that!

"Ms. Leatherby," the familiar voice of Mrs. Olga, a ninety-something librarian said at the door. "There's a gentleman named Bobby here. He wanted to know if you were in," she said, using a tiny withered hand to balance herself in the doorway.

Bambi's eyebrow perked in surprise, and she bit her lip. Bobby was…was asking for her? She stood, giving herself a once over, making sure her black slacks, vest, and white blouse looked smart. She broke the ruled today about wearing only skirts; thankfully it was Bobby asking for her and not Crowley. With a blood-red-lipstick grin, Bambi walked out, expecting to see a wheelchair-clad hillbilly, but instead she saw Bobby Singer standing at the checkout desk! Bambi gawked before smiling and running up to Bobby, hugging him around the neck with a big smile. She felt him tense, but then he actually patted her back just a little bit. Suddenly, Bambi realized how forward that last move was. Fuck.

"Sorry," Bambi stood back. "Damn, Bobby, I never thought you were actually this tall! What happened?"

Mrs. Olga cleared her throat and gave them an ugly glare that told them to take it elsewhere. Bambi blushed and walked over to the old woman. "I'm taking the rest of the day off. I promise I'll work overtime tomorrow."

"See that you do, Ms. Leatherby. Do not do anything unholy," Mrs. Olga said with an ugly scowl that made her look eight times her age. Man, she could use some makeup.

Bambi smirked and walked out, motioning for Bobby to follow her. He caught up to her outside the Library. "You never told me your name was Leatherby."

Shit. He must've known her traitor, hunter parents. It took all of Bambi's self-control not to tense up or sneer. "You never asked," she said, smiling dumbly. "Why? Do you know my step-father...I took his name when he married my mom."

"Oh," he said, obviously not fully believing her story. No self-respecting hunter would believe it. "No I don't. Just wondering is all. Where the Hell are we going anyway? Don't you have work?"

"You're telling me how the fuck you got outta that wheelchair, Bobby...and I could use some booze right about now. I'll drive."

"It's only one," Bobby said, still following Bambi until they got to her Hummer. He stopped her when he saw a rope burn around her throat. "Jesus, Bambi. Thought you said you were ditchin' his ass," he said, gently touching the old wound.

"I-I know I did," Bambi said, covering the burn as she hopped into the vehicle. "You comin' or what?"

"Balls," Bobby grumbled, staring at the door to the vehicle. "I guess so if I'm gonna get any of my questions answered."

* * *

"And she came back to life...because of Death. Damn, I missed her," Bobby grumbled as Bambi sat over his lap on his couch, talking about their woes. Right now, he was talking about his wife. Bambi felt a pang of sadness as she listened. He really didn't deserve a life like this, and his wife sounded like such a sweet lady. "But she said...she said she wanted me to be happy before I had to kill her again. She said I should get…get to know you better."

"Wait, me? Why me?"

"I talked about you with 'er. She said we sounded good…good fer each other. It was her dyin' wish, y'know," he said softly. Bambi felt another pang of sadness and patted his hand that was splayed over her knee. Man, she was so drunk. She didn't know she could still get this drunk. "What about you?"

"My...I guess you call it a boyfriend? Anyway," Bambi said giggling, as she opened her fourth bottle. "He always treated me like shit, even when I was a kid. Then suddenly we're in a thing!" she grumps. "And that's it. No love. No affection. None. Nada. He tells me I'm his property, and that I can't be with anyone else…but I don't ever know if he's loyal. It's just a bunch of rough sex!"

"Then why don't ya stay here.?

Blushing from drink and some other emotion, Bambi's breath grew shaky as she gawked at Bobby. That was the kindest thing anyone had ever said to her. When she thought about it, Bobby had been nothing but nice to her. Maybe thus was where she needed to be. She retracted her legs and was suddenly straddling Bobby Singer, placing a firm hand on his chest. His hands remained dormant in what was most likely shock, and his stillness was making her nervous. Bambi drank the rest of her beer before she mustered up the gumption to go in for the kill. She was more nervous about this than her first mission. She felt rather small against him...vulnerable and weak. It was alright though because Bobby wouldn't hurt her. He promised to protect her. She pushed her lips onto his and waited; she swore she wouldn't be like Crowley and push it any further. His groan from pleasure vibrating deep within his chest spurred them both deeper.

Bobby certainly wasted no time after that, calloused hands traveling from luscious locks of hair to her now bare shoulders, to her hips. Bambi's hands ran through his short soft hair, but a gasp ripped through her when she felt him take a pocket knife to her belt. "I'll buy another," he mumbled as a hand slid into her slacks, peeling them down so his digits could gain better access to her. Her skin felt so hot…so did his.

"Oh fuck the belt!" Bambi groaned, screeching as they fell off the couch into a drunken tangle of limbs on the hard wood floor. She giggled when she felt her back touch the cool floor. Her hands ran down his shoulders, digging her nails into flesh.

He pulled her hands away gently. "No, I'm showing you how it's done the right way, Bambi. We got time for rough later." The sound of clothes falling around the room only faintly pulled at her attention.

By the time their bodies actually came together, Bambi's head was swimming dangerously from the insane amount of pleasure she was receiving. He filled her, not an inch left untouched. He was almost as big as...no, not right now. She didn't need to be thinking about him.

"You're so-" he grunted as he slowly, deliciously and almost painfully withdrew and pushed in again. "You're trying to kill me. Dammit."

Bambi's head fell back, eyes rolling to the back of her head, waiting for him to quicken the pace as they became more acquainted with each other physically. She could feel her walls tightening around him, milking him until she nearly screamed. She grinned in a rather sadistic way when Bobby swore loudly when she wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him better access to her. Finally, he released his hold on his restraint. She screamed at the top of her fucking lungs when that happened. He rode her slow and hard, allowing Bambi to feel every ripple of pleasure coursing through her body until there was no more to be had. He followed her climactic moment soon after her own.

Bobby pulled away after several long minutes of just laying together, and they lay side-by-side for a while before Bambi went to puke. She came back to find Bobby asleep on the ground with a throw pillow tucked under his head. Bambi smiled and walked back to his bedroom—a rather empty room with little to no furniture or sign of life—and got the blanket off of his bed. She noticed a picture of his wife and smiled at it before returning and curling up beside Bobby. As she fell asleep, Bambi realized she actually felt safe in his arms.

He was...gentle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like we have a love triangle! But did you notice that Crowley was always on the edge of her mind? Coincidence? Will she break Bobby's or Crowley's heart? Does Crowley even have one of those things lol


	15. Chapter 15

"Damn it, Bambi," Bobby growled quietly as he pushed said scantily-clad female off his lap and into another chair. Bambi pouted and snatched his beer from him, taking a drink before giving it back to him which he frowned upon. "Stop it. Sam and Dean could walk in any second."

"Come on. Is it so bad to have a badass girl staying with you in your house?"

Bobby rolled his eyes. "How do you think those idgits will take it? I doubt it will be the chick flick ending you're expecting."

"What?"

"Ain't you noticed you're a little...young for me?"

"Oh please," Bambi rolled her eyes. "So what if you robbed the cradle? You robbed a pretty good one," she thought she detected a snort from Bobby. "I'm sure they'd welcome me with open arms! Maybe we could have a group hug."

"I get the feeling they'd rather not."

"How about I sugarcoat it with those pizza cupcakes in the oven? You said that one, Dean, likes food."

The older hunter couldn't help but smirk at her as she dug through the fridge and found another beer. He also enjoyed watching her bend over wearing nothing but one of his plaid shirts and lacy see through boy-shorts. "They still ain't takin' it well."

"Ah, who cares what Pinky and the Brain think anyways?" Bambi said, licking her lips as she sat down in Bobby's lap again. This time though he didn't remove the she-koala that demanded to cling to him on a constant basis. Success was sweet. "So...what do you think about us?"

"Huh?"

"I saw you looking at my ass. What do you wanna do?" Bambi said, taking a swig.

"Who says I want to do anything with you? 'Parently I'm a cradle robber."

Bambi grinned and twisted herself to straddle Bobby's waist. She wrapped her arms around him and chuckled when he caved into her wishes and kissed her. Bambi gets what Bambi wants; it was best he learn that sooner than later. Soon though, what was once an innocent kiss was a hot make out session, and Bambi was about to get undressed.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!"

"B-Bobby?!"

"Oh God, Cas! Purge me! Purge me!" The interrupted couples turned to see Sam doing a very good zombie impression, whilst Dean held a man's hands over his eyes, who was looking at Dean completely baffled. That must be the Cas person.

"Dean, what are you doing with my hands?"

"Get rid of the images! The memories! It fucking burns man!"

"But Dean, you watch males and females in coitus often. How can this burn?"

"Hey idjits!" Bobby snapped, having turned tomato red. "You finished yet?"

"Surprise!" Bambi yelled, taking a big swig of alcohol. "I'm home!"

Sam finally managed to make words with that big mouth of his. "Uh...sorry. We're not used to Bobby having um company. I'm Sam...that's my brother Dean and our friend Castiel."

"Bambi, like the Disney movie," she said standing and walking over to the oven and then back to Bobby's lap. Something about the way Sam was sizing her up made her nervous. It was like he knew what she really did...what she really was. It made her really really uncomfortable.

"This just...kind of happened," Bobby grumbled.

"No! I can't believe you, Bobby! She's a fucking baby!"

"Hey!" Bambi snapped. "I suck cock not pacifiers!"

Every male in the room tensed and fell silent. "There is not enough brain bleach in the universe."

Castiel frowned. "I don't understand."

"Fellatio."

Bobby had succumbed to holding his face in his hand whilst Dean was screwing his eyes shut. Bobby huffed out a breath. "Well you'd better get over it. She ain't going nowhere anytime soon."

Dean groaned. "I'm going to go drown myself in alcohol."

"Want a pizza cupcake?" Bambi asked, pulling out the savory treats.

Not one to turn down food, he took one and bit into it. "Where have you been all our lives?" Dean asked.


	16. Chapter 16

Rage boiled up in the new King's veins as he stared at the scene before him, invisible to the naked and even supernatural eye. All this time he had been busy breaking his ass to stabilize his rank as the leader, and then he comes back to see his...his female practically fucking his arch nemesis! Most would assume that as the King, Crowley's worst enemy was God or Heaven. No, it was a one Robert Singer. If that contract weren't binding him, Crowley would've let his pup year into that leathery ass ages ago. There were so many things about Robert that pissed Crowley off, and this was like the straw that broke the fucking camel. He should have just killed the drunken bastard when he had a chance a few months ago. The worst part though was that Crowley felt...well, shit, the fact he was upset at all proved how far his pet had crossed over the line. He saw buttons coming undone; that's when he decided to pop in on the little lovebirds. If anything, Crowley should've caught them in the act just to watch them burn together in his Pit.

"Ah, Bambi," said woman yelped and scrambled from Bobby's lap to behind the furry ass. Oh, did she honestly think that would save her? Oh contraire, little girl. "I'm so glad I've found you. I was getting worried," he smirked sadistically.

"Crowley?!" Robert barked as he looked between the two. "You know this guy?"

"That's the guy I was...y'know."

"Wait...Crowley?! Hell, Bambi, why didn't you say somethin'?"

Ah, so they'd been talking, had they? And about him no less! Oh, he was sure that just brought those two so much closer together. A sneer covered Crowley's face as a glass of Craig appeared in his hand. It was safer than what he really wanted; he wanted a knife or a whip made out of metal to beat Bambi with. "I've licked her, fucked her, and sucked her just like you have mate. I'll be taking her with me now though. She has work, playtime's over and…daddy's impatient."

"Like Hell she's going with you, you sicko," Bobby snarled, standing as if his pathetic mortal carcass could stop the new King of Hell. "She's stayin' h-"

Crowley grinned malevolently as Bambi walked to him, past Bobby. He glared into her eyes and made sure she knew what was coming and that she deserved every fucking bit of it. The hurt rabbit look told him she knew it too. She actually looked kind of remorseful. Ha! He noticed though that she left something on the couch she once occupied. Fine. Let her and Robert cherish what meek, fleeting memories she had here; Bambi would always come crawling back to Crowley. The King smiled a cat-and-cream smile as Bambi took his hand in her own. He possessively jerked her against him and winked at Robert as his hand roamed before they vanished and appeared in his new master bedroom. She was his after all.

"W-What's all this?" Bambi asked, startled.

Crowley grabbed a handful of Bambi's hair and jerked her face close to his. "The only reason that little affair played out as long as it did is because I was busy. This is my Hell now, and I'm its King. I could kill you." Pushing her over the arm of the sofa, Crowley kicked those slender, pale legs apart. Robert had tainted what was his. He had to cleanse her, he decided as he slid two fingers into her. He'd make sure she came crawling back to him. "Oh pet. I'm going to fuck you senseless. You know that right?" A knife appeared in his hand and Crowley knelt over his Bambi. He sliced both deep, long, wide, and short cuts into her, lapping up the blood that would dribble out as he relished in her moaning and writhing. He began to push into her, barely, a little at a time. Halfway in, Crowley pulled back out again. "Now get out."

Bambi was, of course, in a euphoric daze until he mentioned that. She had missed his kind of sex; he knew it. After all, he practically raised her into being his perfect little pet, and now it was paying off. "W-What?"

He shoved her away from him onto the unforgiving floor. She was lucky he didn't heat the floor underneath her. "Leave."

"Wait, Crowley please no," Bambi said, grabbing said King's hand as he went to leave. She couldn't see it, but he was smirking. He knew she'd come crawling, and it pleased him in a way he knew wasn't good for the King of Hell. "I'm sorry. I was so so so wrong. I'm begging you, please forgive me," she said, letting out a sob and collapsing to her knees as she cried. "Don't make me go. I'll...I'll make myself yours forever."

Crowley's eyes narrowed. She really cared that much? Rarely did anyone mention performing a demon marriage ceremony. That was sacred in the only way demons upheld the term "sacred." It shook Crowley slightly that she cared so much despite his hatred. Turning, he looked down at Bambi and sighed...best to get this over with now. He knelt down and looked around to make sure no one was around before kissing Bambi softly. "Shall we?"

Crowley led his little lamb to his playroom and chained her down; it should've been a familiar sensation for her. As she lay there nude, he picked up his freshly cleaned scalpel and admired her. Bambi had her eyes closed and jaw locked by the time the blade pressed into her flesh. It was so erotic, watching as skin and tissue separated and blood flowed. Once the incision was made, he reached into her chest and began searching...ah. Bambi by this time was a whimpering mess. Holy Sin Nature, this was fucking hot. He hated to say it, but he couldn't stand the thought of doing this with or for anyone else but her. Without preamble, he broke off one of her ribs and pulled it out before sealing her incision. She was screaming and gripping the table as best she could even as Crowley crawled atop her. He entered his pet gently but quickly then. She didn't cry anymore, didn't hurt, didn't think; he could tell she just sort of floated there peacefully as he fucked her. After he came, he unstrapped and helped Bambi to the bed. He laid her on her side as he watched her.

"Good girl. You're my good girl."


	17. Chapter 17

Dean had followed Bambi through Sioux Falls from outside of town to a little motel with hideous decor. It reminded him of a hospital…damn he hated hospitals. Ever since the reaper incident, those places gave him the goddamn creeps. Bobby had been stewing over Bambi for days now; they were all quite surprised at the piece of Scottish demon he-bitch trash she chose: Crowley. Of all the mother fucking bastards, it just had to be him! Now that Sam was…was gone, Dean was about to cut his ties with the hunter's world, but first he was going to give this bitch a piece of his goddamn mind. She was considered family to them, dammit! They let her into their lives, something they rarely did anymore. She betrayed them! It just wasn't right, and she needed to be told a thing or two about what her little stunt was doing to Bobby…and to him. Bobby was devastated over it, and he was drinking more. If he kept this up, he wouldn't have a liver by next year.

Dean walked up to the door to Bambi's room and quietly picked it until he could open the damn thing. He opened it abruptly to surprise her, but he was shocked more than she was. Bambi sat on the bed and seemed to have been waiting for Dean with a pair of beers in her hand. "Your Impala is noisy," she said as she handed him a beer and sat down again. Dean thought she looked horrible. She had a black eye, split lip, finger-shaped bruises all over her and hickies too. Okay...Dean was about to puke. "I'm guessing you came to talk, right?" she asked.

Dean continued to stare, overcome with both anger and betrayal. He wanted to believe she left Bobby against her will, but he knew better. His heart broke. She may be dead by next year for all he knew. He kind of felt a little sympathy for her. Dean sat on the adjacent bed and took a swig of beer to cloud his jittery nerves. He was in shock and still in mourning over losing Sammy to the Pit. "How the fuck could you, Bambi? How could you do this to Bobby? To us? We treated you like fucking family!" Dean growled.

"I know, Dean. I'm really sorry it has to be this way, but Crowley will always be my first love. I know I shouldn't have dragged Bobby along, but I like him too. He'll always hold a special place in my heart…but Crowley-"

Dean could feel hatred and anger rise in his gut. "He is broken because he fuckin' loves you, and that's all you have to say! I can't even look at you!"

"I know. It's just that...Crowley and I are suited to each other. A monster and a monster. Bobby's a hunter…it isn't right."

Dean grabbed Bambi by the collar of her shirt and lifted her off the bed. She'd lost a lot of weight…an unhealthy amount of weight. "You're gonna leave the state. You hear me? If I ever see you here again, I'll put a bullet in between your fucking eyes."

Bambi frowned. "I can only say 'I'm sorry' so much, Dean. Maybe you should consider staying out of this. This is between me and Bobby."

"You broke Bobby's heart, and all you can tell me is that you're 'sorry'?! He's like my father! I won't leave you to drive him six feet under, dammit!" Dean bellowed into her face. She winced as he shook her and held her side. Dean shoved her down and pulled her shirt up. There was a scar and a rib was missing. "H-He did this..didn't he?" Dean growled.

"I deserved it, Dean."

Bambi took a drink as he punched the wall like a savage. "The fuck is wrong with you?!"

"My my, Squirrel, that's quite the temper you've got as usual," Crowley said from behind Bambi. Dean noticed her tense.

"Why the fuck are you here?"

"To move my things. Can't have you hurting what doesn't belong to you," the demon said, putting an arm around Bambi with a smug grin. Dean went for his knife, but as he went to attack, Crowley and Bambi vanished. Well fuckity, fuck, fuck.


	18. Chapter 18

Crowley had the absolute worst headache he had ever experienced. This damn meatsuit needed sleep which Crowley had no time for as the new King. He really couldn't stand his own species even on a great day now. They were just so damn stupid! No one could handle following even the simplest orders. If he asked someone to jump, they'd go kill a pig and hang themselves with it and then fall off a cliff. Moments like this almost made him want his old position back...almost. Suddenly though, Crowley could feel his surroundings change. He was in the bastard Bobby's home; if he could without repercussions, he'd kill the bastard. Damn those summoning spells to Hell.

"Well, you look like hammered crap."

"And you're a vision as always," Crowley stated as he looked the drunk fool over. He still didn't see what Bambi saw there. What did he have that Crowley didn't? Mortality? An appetite for lousy booze? Crowley shifted and looked up. Fuck. Devil's trap. Crowley sighed. "Don't we know how this game ends? Really Bobby, you gotta know when to fold 'em."

"Word on the street is that ever since Lucifer went to the pokey, you're the big kahuna downstairs."

"I see you've been reading the trades."

"Trouble in Paradise?" Bobby asked like the bastard actually knew. Oh what Crowley wouldn't give to gut him.

"Mate. You...have no idea," Crowley grumbled as he poured himself a glass of Craig. "I thought when I got the corner office," he said, dropping antacids in the drink and gulping. "I thought it was all going to be rainbows and two-headed puppies. But, if I'm being honest, it's been…Hell."

"I thought that was the point."

Crowley sighed as he finished his drink and sat it on the table. Typical human answer. He was about to get the first bit of educating his redneck eyes had ever witnessed. "You know what the problem with demons is?"

"They're demons."

"Exactly. Evil lying prats. The whole lot of them. And stupid. Try to show them a new way, a better way. And what do you get? Bugger all. You know, there's days that I think Lucifer's whole 'Spike anything with black eyes' plan wasn't half bad. Hmm. Feels good to get it off my chest. We should make this a thing."

"Do I look like Dr. Phil to you?"

"A fatter ginger version. But you're right, that's what I've got Bambi for," he said with a smirk as Bobby gave him a dirty look. Oh yes, he went there, Singer. "Any who. Obviously not here for a social call. So on with it."

"I want-"

"Save the recap. In fact I'll do the shorthand for you," Crowley said, pointing at Bobby and using his best mock Bobby voice. "I want my soul back, idjit," he pointed at himself. "'Fraid not," he pointed at Bobby. "But I'm surly and I gotta beard. Gimme! Blah, blah, blah. homespun corn-pone insult, witty retort from yours truly. The bottom line is, you get bubkiss. Are we done?"

"Just getting started." Bobby looked to his left and Gavin appeared.

Well shit. Crowley hardly remembered his bastard kid much anymore. The stupid runt would've been stuck with his mum if he hadn't killed her in delivery, so Gavin got handed off to him. He tried to pawn the brat off, but no one seemed to want a little brat with his mum's ugly mug. He looked at Crowley; he was gonna have a bit of fun with this: play the mourning father. "Gavin? Is that you? I-It's been so long. I love you so-" he busted out laughing. "Sorry. Your soul for my boy, is that it? I've got to give you credit for thinking outside the box on that one, but problem is I loathe the little bastard. You want to torture him, just let me pull up a chair and watch. Hell, burn his bones and send him down to me and we can have a family reunion. That right, son? You picked the wrong bargaining chip this time, my friend."

"He ain't a chip. I was just using him to dig up dirt on you. And since Gavin hates you maybe even more than you hate him, he was more than happy to squawk."

Crowley tensed. "What did you tell him, son?"

Gavin smiled wickedly. "Everything," he vanished. Stupid little bastard. Crowley should've killed his mum when she first got pregnant.

"I know it all now, Fergus. You may be king of the dirt bags here but in life, you were nothing but a two-bit tailor who sold his soul in exchange for an extra three inches below the belt.

Crowley never denied it. Hell, why should he, and that name meant nothing to him now that the name Crowley was imprinted on his damned soul. "Just trying to hit double digits. So, you got a glimpse behind the curtain. And?"

"And now I know where you're planted," the crusty old windbag said, tossing a cell phone to Crowley.

It was Dean. "Hiya, Crowley."

"Dean. It's been a long time," Crowley says slyly. "We should get together."

"Sure. We'll have to do that when I get back."

"Back?"

"Yeah. Me and Sam," Ah, so Sam and Dean were back together. Took them long enough after he got that runt out of the Pit. "We've gone international. In fact, we're in your neck of the woods." Unease slithered up Crowley's spine. "Did you really use to wear a skirt?"

"A kilt. I had very athletic calves. What's the game?"

"Dominoes. In fact we just dug yours up."

Ah, so they dug up his grave, did they? How...sweet...of them. One of these days so help him, Crowley would rip their throats out and dance on their chests. Then again, what did he have to worry about? He glared at Bobby. "This is ridiculous. The whole burning bones thing-it's a myth."

"I know an employee of yours who would disagree," Bobby said with a smirk.

"Ah. That's where she got to."

"You demons. You think you're something special. But you're just spirits. Twisted, perverted, evil spirits. But, end of the day, you're nothing but ghosts with an ego. We torch your bones, you go up in flames."

Fuck. This was becoming too serious.

"You hear that, Crowley?" Dean provoked, clicking his lighter like some macho idiot. "That's me flicking my Bic for you."

"Your bones for my soul. Going once…Going twice," Crowley tossed the phone to the ground.

"Bollocks." Crowley raised his palm to reveal the contract on Bobby's arms written with hellfire into his greasy, disgusting skin. He then turned his hand over and erased said contract.

"You can go ahead and leave in the part about my legs." Crowley rolled his eyes, but he really didn't have much of a choice. "Pleasure doing business with you."

"Now if you don't mind," he said, motioning to the Devil's Trap. As soon as Bobby let him out, Crowley pinned the hunter into a chair and turned the TV on. On it was...oh what a surprise, it was a porno featuring Bambi and himself. Blood was everywhere. Gorgeous.

"My God," Bobby said, turning pale at the part where Crowley tore open Bambi's skin. "B-Bambi?"

"Good day, Robert," Crowley said as he vanished. But in his mind he said 'She's mine now, Robert'.


	19. Chapter 19

Crowley vanished from the diner filled with dead monsters and one very bad angel. It was good to be King, he decided as he strolled down the halls of his new and improved Hell. Everywhere there were pictures of him and his torturing skills. Ah yes, he loved to be feared by all, but he wasn't satisfied with just Hell. Oh no, no, no. Crowley wanted something more: Purgatory. To get it, he was using almost all of his resources to get to Alpha monsters; they had to know something, right? Hell, he even made Bambi start hunting monsters instead of other hunters, but there was an issue: she sucked. It seemed Crowley didn't teach her what she needed for this kind of prey, but he still made her do it. In fact, she was on a mission now to kill two children that those bloody nimrods, the Winchesters, let slip through their fingers.

As he was walking, "Bad Boy" by Cascada began playing out of his coat pocket. He let it ring as he strolled, not wanting any sort of news to dampen his mood. The song ended in the same moment as Crowley turned to go to his office. Just a few seconds passed before the ringing started up all over again. He was suddenly quite suspicious of who the Hell was calling him; no one ever tried to call him a second time. Not even Bambi was that brave. Crowley slid his hand into his pocket and retrieved his phone, pressing it to his ear without reading the caller ID.

"This had better be good," he growled into the phone.

"Hello. This is Lucy Farmer from Saint Michael Hospital. Am I speaking with a Mr. Crowley?" an aged female voice asked firmly without fear.

"Yes," he hesitated for a moment. Why the Hell was a hospital calling him? How did they know his number and his name? Unless...

"That's fantastic," her voice sounded relieved. "Is there any chance, that you know a young lady by the name of Bambi Leatherby?"

Bollocks. "Yes, I know her. She's my wife," he replied without batting an eye. He was a con by trade after all. The King of Hell needed to be an expert in all sinful fields. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Does she have other family?" she asked. "We need to get in touch with someone who's responsible for her?"

"I'm responsible for her. What happened?"

"I can't tell you what happened," she said too abruptly for the King's taste. "You should get here and talk to the doctors first. I'm not allowed to-" her voice sounded desperate and full of compassion. It nauseated Crowley to have to hear it.

"Just tell me. I'm not wasting my bloody time just because of a broken rib or limb. If it's something she can deal with on her own, I'm not getting involved."

"I'm sorry," she paused. "I didn't want to upset you, but what I can say is…that it's not just a broken bone she's dealing with. I'm not allowed to give any kind of information, but it would be better if your wife had someone familiar right now," her voice growing more and more sorrowful, as she ended her speech. Crowley thought he'd die from the exposure to her. "It took the past seven hours to get her stable enough to tell us your information."

It felt as though Crowley had swallowed a boulder. What the Hell happened to her that could be that severe? The mission must have gone haywire, he thought as his foot began to tap. Crowley was pulled from his thoughts though; what the Hell was wrong with him?! He was a demon and not just any demon; he was the bloody King of Hell. Crowley should not be feeling this way, or any way, towards a human female. He couldn't shove the feelings out though; he could only suppress them to some extent. Clearing his throat, he returned his focus to the nurse. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

Silence. "She isn't dying."

Crowley frowned. "I'll be right over."

When he arrived three minutes later, an old man came up to him. Apparently Bambi was found on the interstate having been "attacked by an animal." She had a concussion, eight broken bones, two fractures, severe blood loss, and surgery to repair her torn-apart abdomen. Crowley, of course, went to see her in Room...666 how original. When he walked in, he wasn't quite prepared to see that many tubes and wires running off of her. He kicked himself mentally for even caring; again, he was the bloody King of Hell, not some sob story romantic. He shut himself in with her and stood by her bed before sitting on it. With one hand he lightly slapped her cheek until she stirred enough to groan and started pressing a remote hooked up to her morphine. She was in pain, and those noises were...fuck they turned him on.

"Cr-rowley?" Bambi mumbled, slowly opening her swollen eyes.

"About fucking time you woke up."

"Sorry."

"You got the job done," he grumbled. Bambi looked at him oddly for a few seconds before she smiled and put her hand on his.

"Love you too."

Crowley jumped off the bed and stood there, watching as Bambi fell into a medicinally induced sleep. The fuck was that supposed to mean? He, Crowley, did not love. He did not feel either! Frowning, he vanished from the room. Away...he needed to be far, far away from there.


	20. Chapter 20

Bambi woke once again alone in hers and Crowley's bed. She sighed and rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling despairingly. This hadn't started until Bambi was let out of the hospital. Since then Crowley just started to put more and more distance between them. What had she done to upset him? It was something Bambi had been thinking about a lot lately. Actually, it was all she thought about. He barely even came by for sex anymore, and that was what was the most concerning. He wouldn't answer his phone, and wouldn't even speak to her through blood communication. What the fucking Hell was his problem?! They were practically married because of the bone offering she gave and he excepted. What more could she do for him?

After a while, Bambi finally found the courage to confront Crowley. It would be the first time they'd seen each other since he helped her into the bed a few days ago. Bambi had every intention of dressing to his liking to get her way; she learned manipulation from the best after all. Bambi wore a dark red wrap dress with nothing on underneath. All he'd have to do is pull a string on the bow. That would show him! Hell, she even put on makeup. She never wore makeup for nearly anyone at all...ever. Her heart was hammering away in her chest as she had someone find his position. It wasn't like he was trying very hard to hide either; he was tucked away in what looked like an abandoned factory...maybe a slaughter house for pigs.

She drove herself there and left the car several blocks back. Even when off duty, Bambi always on her guard. She was on even higher alert as she drifted past cells used to contain pigs, but these contained monsters, and not just any monsters: Alphas. It was almost worse than Hell. Bambi was trying her best to drown out the screams and sobs and desperate pleas as she walked further down into the dark. It was starting to bring back memories of Alistair's torture sessions that sometimes tormented her. All it did was make her feet race along faster to find a place of safety...or at least Crowley would do.

Bambi could hear him screaming when a man in a trench walked out of the room said yelling was coming from. Typical. At first, she thought it was just another stupid demon, but then she recognized him as the guy that came to visit Bobby while they were...ahem "together." If she remembered right, his name was Destiel or something like that. She was going to pass by him, but then he stopped in front of her and just...smiled at her. It was very paternal in gesture, and he even put a hand on her shoulder. "Greetings, my child. There is no need to be afraid here in my presence."

She begged to differ. "Your name is-"

"I was Castiel, but soon I will become God. I am going to forge a new world."

Yeah, right, Bambi thought, trying not to snicker. "Seriously?"

"I am very serious." Suddenly though, he touched her forehead and she was assaulted with an image or vision. A man...or what used to be one, hung from the ceiling, bound by sigil-covered chains. So...it wasn't human? The vessel was no more than exposed stretches of gaping muscles and cracked bone. From the clotted mass of blood that was its face, a hazel eye opened, glassy and weary. It was the only thing that remained whole. The other eye hid under a putrefied bruise. It called her name; no...t-that was Crowley's voice. Bambi jumped away from the offending fingers and stared at the angel/God. "It is his fate to see such an end. You would do well to leave and repent so it doesn't become your fate as well, child. There isn't much time left for you," he said before vanishing.

Afraid for Crowley, Bambi rushed into the room, expecting to see the worst. Instead she saw aforementioned demon angrily slicing away at a dead body. She stumbled in the door as if pulled by an inescapable, invisible force; it was a dumb idea...then again, Crowley always said she was dim. When she busted in the door, he paused for only a second before he resumed his work. He barely even acknowledged her existence. How dare he after she was so damn worried about him?! Bambi felt emotion beginning to well up in her throat throughout the tense silence. Would it be like this from now on? Was he paying her back by sleeping around? Tears pooled in her eyes; it was safe to assume Bambi had some abandonment issues.

"C-Crowley?" she managed.

"It's late," Crowley's voice echoes. "You should be asleep. In Hell. Where I left you."

Bambi bit her lip. "I couldn't sleep." Silence. "I've missed you," she admitted.

Crowley paused in his slicing. "Not a good time, sweet cheeks."

"Why?" she begged.

"Because...you know why."

The silence was stifling. Crowley was so distant, and Bambi desperately longed for him, for things to be like they used to be. Everything was in disarray. "No, I-I don't," her voice broke. "I'm sorry...for whatever I did to make you upset."

"You're so...human," he spat. "So bloody fragile. I'm in the big league now, sweet cheeks. You're too delicate...too weak. Just leave."

Wait so...he was doing it...for her? Bambi felt her tears dry up. Now she was actually kind of pissed. How dare he think she was that weak? She could hold up her own unless...did that Angel threaten to hurt her like he did Crowley? Biting her lip, Bambi stepped up and took off her coat, replacing it with a butcher's apron. "Can I help with this one? Just this one body?" she asked, noticing how Crowley was eyeing her now that she was in his sights.

"If I let you, would you leave?"

Bambi nodded eagerly, and not three minutes later, they were both covered in blackish red blood. Neither of them minded as they handed off the organs and removed lumps of fatty tissue. Suddenly though, Crowley just stopped what he was doing. He was in the middle of extracting a toe when he just started staring at her. "W-What is it?" she asked.

"Come here," he rasped.

As soon as Bambi was at arm's length, Crowley pulled her into him, making her stumble into his chest. Crowley was pulling off Bambi's apron and then his own. "This isn't," he said, unable to admit defeat. "I just...want to look."

Bambi grinned. She won; she so had this in the bag. If it were appropriate, Bambi might do a victory dance. She made herself comfortable and rolled her hips against his, stirring his erection and making her dress ride up. Crowley went to shove her off; he rested his hands on her waist with every intention of doing so, but he felt her hipbones through the material. He ended up caressing the ridges much to his partner's pleasure.

"Have you been thinking about what it'd be like to fuck me again? Come sate that curiosity."

Crowley growled dangerously and ran his hand up her thigh, and under her clothes to find nothing. Bambi smiled and shifted to give him further access to her. She let out a small huff when he finally touched the lips of her cunt; she so desperately wanted him to fuck her into the floor like an animal. He was torturing her in his own way; he had that smug look on his face. "Kiss me," he snapped.

The first press of lips was tentative, chaste maybe. Bambi was nervous being put on the spot like that all of a sudden. She'd seen Crowley with so many lovers...how could she possibly dare to compare with them? Then, Crowley rooted his other hand into Bambi's hair and shoved two fingers up into her abruptly. Bambi screamed in euphoria. So long...it had been so damn long. She didn't realize until she came down from her short high that Crowley bit her neck, breaking the skin. He untied her dress after releasing her hair and pulled it off before causing a knife to appear in his hand with a sadistic grin. He started with her arms and collarbone, lapping away the blood as he stroked her inner walls. Then he began making slightly deeper cuts.

"On the floor," he ordered, suddenly withdrawing from her. She obeyed, body flushed and needy. "Spread your legs."

Bambi obeyed and spread her legs, using her fingers to show him what he had left alone for far too long. Jackass. Crowley reached down and sank his fingers into her folds himself. Another gasp for air. Before very long, Bambi is gasping and rocking into his digits rhythmically, no doubt enjoying watching her face twist in the throes of both sheer pain and ecstasy. He removed his fingers, and Bambi whined at the loss. He smacked her and immediately dove in for a rough kiss, biting her lip between his teeth. Then with a grunt, he shoved his cock as far in as he possibly could. Bambi sobbed and heard Crowley growl something. As he thrust, he tilted her hips up and repositioned himself for better leverage. He was going so much deeper. He thrust in again, and Bambi gasped harshly.

She finally finished off, undulating her hips in an abrupt way. By then though, Crowley was just getting warmed up; all Bambi could do was cling helplessly to his shoulders like a lifeline. Crowley curled himself over her, never ceasing his strokes. Bambi stopped breathing when she came the second time, and that's when Crowley finally finished too.

"I love-" Before she could finish, Crowley knocked her out, laying over her as he recuperated. No...he couldn't hear that. That bitch wasn't worming her way in that easily. No, no, no.


	21. Chapter 21

Something was wrong; Crowley could feel it. Moaning, he stretched luxuriously in his posh king-size bed and buried his face in a pillow before letting his body relax into the mattress. What could it be? He glanced at his phone, thinking he may have an appointment: just past eight in human time with a clear schedule until that evening. Groggily, the King rolled over and reached his arm across the bed to drape over Bambi...if she was there. That's what it was, he thought agitatedly. He hated how much he needed the stupid bitch in his daily life. It was growing old…fast. There was a note.

_Had a few things to do this morning. Will be back at 3:30 h.t. By the by, I made some chocolate muffins sans the uvulas this time. Still need to tell me who I made those for. -B_

Scowling, Crowley lay back on his bed and crumpled up the note with a growl. Why did she have to bring up Dick Roman? His morning could have started so much better if she hadn't brought up that goo-oozing parasite. Actually, it could've been great if she'd slept in so he could get a good fuck to start off the day right. After a while, Crowley slid out of bed and stalked the halls like a big grumpy old dog. Just as the note promised, there was a covered platter in the kitchen oven. Where else would a bloody oven be? While he didn't have to eat, Crowley and his meatsuit did enjoy it. Especially sweet things. He lifted the lid and took in the light, airy aroma; he plucked one and took a bite from the top. They were still warm; snatching a second, said demon made his way over to his chair. He spent the next hour being gloriously lazy, flipping between news reports, talk shows, and military documentaries. Crowley was listening to that Dick Roman bastard when his phone buzzed. It was Bambi. She-of course-forgot to send something on her computer and asked him to send it. Why did he need a secretary if he was to do all the fucking work for said secretary?

When he opened her laptop, he was assaulted by her bright red Netflix account. He saw her on it occasionally. What the Hell was "P.S. I Love You?" Since he really had nothing better to do after sending the file, Crowley watched it...or at least as much of it as he could stomach without getting fucking cavities. Did Bambi actually watch this disgusting romantic bullshit? Is this what had drawn her to Bobby: an overly human aptitude for affection? Crowley scowled and stared at the now black screen of her computer. It was a competition now: him against Robert. Which one could give the hotter, more loving and passionate sex than the other? The King of Hell was bound and determined to win this game whether Bambi liked it or not.

* * *

That. Was. It! That was the last time Bambi went anywhere near the cell blocks. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been insulted as much as she had today, and she was the King's secretary! Oh, someone would be hearing about this! First, those black-eyed bastards had the nerve to lock her in a cell with some grabby soul; then when they let her out, they started mocking her and being crude and vulgar. Bambi was on a war-path that even Lucifer would cower in fear at. When she finally finished though, Bambi noticed no signs of Crowley in his office. Great, now she'd have to deal with him too!

"Crowley!" she snapped.

"Bloody hell," he growled from the bedroom. "Must you screech like that, bitch?"

Bambi sighed and ran a hand through her frazzled hair. She could really use a nice, quiet evening of relaxation. Oh, and maybe a hot bath with those salts she got from Israel. That seemed to be out of the question though when she was abruptly pushed up against the wall. "Not right now, Crowley."

He didn't respond to her; no, he started trailing kisses up and down her neck. Was this really Crowley? He pressed himself against her, and Bambi let out a soft groan. Apparently this was a green light, because Crowley began devouring her mouth. He pushed and pulled at her, pressing her back to the wall. He trapped her and pressed the full length of himself against her, letting his hardness cradle itself between her legs. She lifted her hands to his chest as he thrust his wet tongue between her lips, caressing the inside of her mouth smoothly and expertly. Holy shit. What the Hell was wrong with him? Why was he being gentle?! Crowley groaned into her mouth and dropped his hand to the hem of her dress, hiking it up to her waist. When he ground against her, she wrapped her arms around him. Suddenly he let go of her and dragged her to the bed, pulling off her clothes as he went. He undressed while Bambi crawled up the bed before following him. She lay awkwardly under him; she wasn't used to Crowley being gentle with her. It felt almost...wrong.

"Straddle me," he growled.

As Bambi obeyed, her hands quickly found their way to his chest, allowing her to put weight into her grinding movements against him. She bent to kiss him but was cut short when he leaned up and caught her nipple, sucking and dragging his teeth over it. She reached around his shoulders to thread her hands through his hair, all the sensations sending her into overdrive. "Tell me what you want," he growled suddenly rolling her over onto her back and cradling her.

"I want you."

"Say it. Tell me exactly what you want." He bent over her, winding an arm around her waist and touched her. She cried out at the sensation and bucked he bit her shoulder. "Tell me," he commanded.

"I want you to take me."

Without any further warning he thrust himself in, jerking her entire body up. He thrust roughly, sending a delicious electrified current through her blood as he leaned forward, hand kneading her breast as he raked his teeth over her neck and shoulder. A small cry escaped Bambi, and she began to push back into him. His massive hands ran themselves down her body, sides, back and stopping at her hips. He picked up the pace, and it was all she could do to keep her head from bumping the headboard. His grip was rough, his motions passionate. Electricity was flowing through her nerves, aching for something magnificent. His lips touched her cheek, dragging across her jaw as he took in a ragged breath.

Crowley's large hands smoothed over her body before they covered Bambi's, threading their fingers together as he fucked her raw. He picked up pace, thrusting wildly as though he would never stop. "Mine. Mine," Crowley purred into her ear. "Always mine."

She moaned and pushed back into his thrust, so close to climax. "Yes. I'm yours," she gasped. An earthquake suddenly rocked her body. Quake after quake shook her body as she writhed under him. Then he was shaking, letting out a tight yell before he collapsed on top of her. Quietly, Crowley lifted his head and bent down. His hand held her chin tightly as he trapped her bottom lip between his, sending a new shiver through her. "Was that better...than Robert?"

Bambi stared at him shocked. Was he still jealous about that? Smirking, she nodded and curled up under him. She couldn't hear a heartbeat, but she didn't expect one. After a while though, she felt Crowley remove himself and roll over. He smirked and mumbled something like "knew it." It made her giggle as she felt Crowley's hand on the back of her neck. As he put her to sleep, she managed to tell him something: "I love you, Crowley."

She wasn't awake to hear Crowley's response several minutes later after a long silence: "Yeah, you too."


	22. Chapter 22

Bambi groaned at the throbbing in her chest and head, but she actually managed to open her eyes. Something had happened…something bad. Oh yeah. Bambi had been trailing Meg and Dean, but she'd been caught. There was a car chase and a gun fight. Sam shot the front tire of her motorcycle. The rest was...fuzzy at best. Despite the growing dizziness and the blood, she pushed her eyes open. Her eyelids seemed to weigh a thousand tons. She could see flashing lights, and she could hear something coming towards her. "She's alive! Call a bus! Lady, I'm an officer. Just hold on. Help's comin'. What's your name?"

"B-Bambi," she knew that she was bad off, that her body was broken and shattered. "W-Where's Crowley?"

"Can you tell me what happened?" the officer pleaded. "We'll call someone when we get you to the hospital." Blood was crusted at Bambi's nose and ear, and she looked rather gaunt. "Shit, Darryl, she's in shock."

"Ambulance is comin', Merle. Looks like someone shot her tire. Gotta name?"

"Who shot your tire? Hey, come on!" he snapped as she began to doze off.

"Dean and...and hunters and," she began to mumble.

When her body hit the gurney, Bambi broke down. Everything spun, and the bright light that was shown in her face made her sick. A woman was the culprit, and she was poking and prodding Bambi's already tender skin before putting an oxygen mask on. "Alright, Ms. Leatherby," she said. How did...oh, her wallet. "Tell me how many fingers I have up, okay?"

"T-Three..."

* * *

Bambi stared at the bland gray hospital walls, wearing nothing but a hospital gown. The doctor had run some tests, and he would be back any minute now. She didn't really feel like hearing any sort of bad news in her condition. Bambi had a broken leg, two broken ribs, seven fractures, a concussion, and she looked like she slid across a cheese grater. They were giving her the good drugs for it too. If Crowley picked her up, maybe they would let her out soon so he could just heal her quickly. He'd want sex though; Bambi didn't think she could handle it honestly. As soon as she thought that, the doctor came in with a laptop and some papers. He sat beside her bed and sighed, pulling off his glasses and rubbing his stubbly chin.

"Is there something wrong?" she mumbled.

"Something came up on your tests...I double checked everything I could."

"What is it? Cancer?"

"No, no, you're um...Ms. Leatherby, you're pregnant."

Bambi sat there frozen in time. No...no this, this wasn't possible. She was infertile after all the torture and training and pain she endured in Hell. The doctors said so when she tried to get on the pill. What the Hell was she going to do? She and Crowley never talked about children. Ever. This was supposed to be impossible! She wasn't fit to be a mother! She was a monster, a killer, not some pregnant lady. Then there was Crowley. He already had one son...and he hated him. Crowley would kill her; he'd kill it. She couldn't let that happen without putting up a fight. Bambi was an abortion baby; she swore on her life that wouldn't happen if she could help it...back when she had dreams of family that is.

"Ms. Leatherby?"

"Yes?"

"Sir," a nurse said, peeking her blue-haired head in at them. "There's someone here to see Ms. Leatherby. He says he's her husband. And Meg says that patient in mental woke up."

"Alright, thank you. Do you want to tell your husband, or should I?"

"No," she blurted.

"Are you not telling him?" he frowned. "Is he hurting you?"

Why the Hell did everyone think Crowley abused her?! "No. Of course not. I mean…it's just a lot to take in, and he's really busy," she said. "How far along am I?"

"Surprisingly, you're twenty-four hours pregnant. It should be impossible, but with the sudden surge of deliveries yesterday, I'd say I'm a believer in miracles. It's phenomenal luck that. If you came in any earlier, well," he smiled. "We wouldn't be having this conversation. I'll let him in on my way out."

"Thank you." Bambi laid back, trying to clear her head. How was she going to tell him? It had to be at the perfect moment. She took a ragged breath and looked at herself in the reflection of the window. Bambi looked like some awful human mutation.

"What the Hell is your bloody problem?" Crowley sniped. "You can't stay outta these fuckin' hospitals for the life of ya."

"I could have died; you should be nicer to me, jackass."

"Bitch," Crowley said nonchalantly, looking at her pain medication with a sigh. "Ready to leave?"

"Depends," Bambi snapped. "Can I get a day off?"

"Hell no," Crowley said, pressing his lips to hers roughly. "I'm going to heal you...fuck you and then you're going to help me with the chores." He snapped and Bambi felt her bones mending and her skin returning to her face and hands.

"Carry me."

"No."

"I'll scream."

"Spoiled little bitch," Crowley grumbled as he lifted her and they vanished. "My spoiled bitch...I suppose." Bambi may've been smirking, but she was panicking on the inside. How the Hell was she going to tell him about a baby?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tablet is what allowed her to get pregnant in the first place.


	23. Chapter 23

"What's important is that we remember not to panic," Bambi said, pacing back and forth in front of the bed. "We don't know anything yet."

Growley, Cerberus and Methoptiles just looked at Bambi from their spots on the bed. They had to be the laziest creatures this side of the Pit. All they did when they were off duty was sleep or lay over her with their fat asses. Bambi jumped when her phone went off, the shrill ringing causing her stomach to lurch into her already tightening throat. It was Crowley. For the past three weeks, Bambi had been trying her hardest to tell him that she was...well, y'know...pregnant. He stared at her a lot, saying something about her was weird. She should've said something right then, but she always lost the courage to do so. She picked up the phone, taking a deep breath. "Hello?"

"I have a job for you. You're going to watch a house while I have a chat with the Winchester boys inside. Turns out that bastard rat with wings lived, and Meg is with them. I'll be shooting three birds with a damn stone. Make sure they don't escape until I give you a call."

"Okay...Crowley?"

"What?" he growled. Oh...he wasn't happy. Now wasn't a good time.

"I uh...I'll be right there," she hung up with a shaky sigh and sat with the Hounds. "Whatever happens, everything is gonna be alright, right?" she asked, rubbing Methoptiles' head. He was just a pup, and he was pretty damn cute...for a HellHound.

The trip from Hell to her post seemed like three hours instead of five seconds. As she sat there staring at a small cluster of honeysuckle being nursed by bees, she got the call to evacuate the premises, but she didn't want to leave. Instead, she just stayed there and tried to think about how the Hell she should tell Crowley what was happening inside her…right now. Shit. Bambi was so out of it that she hardly noticed the familiar angel in scrubs and a trench coat: Castiel. She reached for her gun but noticed how he just sat beside her and stared at the bees. Now she was really on edge. Bambi needed to be on blood pressure medication.

"Hello."

Bambi gawked. Something was seriously wrong. Last time she saw this ass, he was threatening her with murder.

"The honeybee is not born knowing how to make honey; the younger bees are taught by the more experienced ones."

Bambi stared at him.

"You'll be an adequate mother."

Bambi frowned. "Oh jeez, thanks. That was thoughtful."

"Did you know the male bed bug has a saber-like penis that he uses to stab the female in the abdomen, releasing sperm into her blood?"

Bambi stared.

"I suppose I wronged you too. Forgive me. I seem to have done that a lot. You are Crowley's mate; bees don't have mates."

"How the Hell will I tell him?" Bambi asked herself, deciding to ignore him. He brought up the Crowley issue all over again. "He'll be so pissed off. He may actually kill me. He's gotten close. What will I do?"

"In nine months, you'll give birth."

"No shit, genius."

"Thank you. Is it not customary to be happy about new life?"

"How are we gonna raise a child though?" Bambi asked, rubbing her forehead. She was getting a migraine. "I'm a freak and Crowley's...he's Kibg of Hell. How could we work that out?"

"Don't like conflict," Castiel said, vanishing. Lot of help he was! Angels were supposed to be helpful, not annoying. She was starting to see why Crowley called him feather brained.

* * *

Bambi jumped when she heard the door close behind her, distracting her from her pacing and worrying. She spent the entire day trying to figure out what the best way to tell Crowley about her pregnancy, but she didn't manage to come up with anything. The only thing her thinking managed to accomplish was making her more and more worried about the King's reaction. Hell, she wasn't even sure how she felt. She was definitely scared; she hadn't planned on having kids. But...there was a little it's bitsy part of her that was excited...more like ecstatic. The thought that she was having a baby caused her heart to flutter. Her biggest fear was Crowley not wanting the baby; she didn't know what she would do then.

"No greeting, sweet cheeks?"

"What? Oh, hey. Are you gonna tell me what was with the mission today?"

"Saw that bastard Dick Roman-"

"The Levaithan?"

"Don't interrupt m-"

"What the fuck, Crowley? You could've gotten hurt or killed! Why the Hell did you go without me?! Or-" Bambi was rammed against the wall by an unseen force and pinned. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

"As I was saying," Crowley said, pouring himself a drink. "We made a deal. I broke it, of course, so things will get interesting soon. Don't engage them. Now," he said, finally looking at her. "Are we ready to behave?"

"Fuck you, Crowley," Bambi said with a smirk.

Suddenly a knife formed in Crowley's hand, and Bambi was released. Fuck. She didn't think he'd take it that far tonight. What about the baby? How far could she actually let this go before it got too dangerous? Crowley was on her in an instant, grinding his erection against her core and savagely biting her neck until she bled. He let out a soft groan and licked her earlobe. "You always know how to get me all bothered, don't you?" he asked as he shoved her onto the bed and crawled up over her. He began slowly carving into her, and after each slice she got more and more nervous.

"C-Crowley," she whimpered. "Stop for a second."

He didn't.

"Crowley please, wait."

Nothing changed.

Shit. Here goes… "Crowley I'm pregnant!"

Crowley went stock still, the knife was still in her arm. She didn't dare look up at him, fearful of the fury and rage she would find. Then, the knife and its wielder were suddenly gone. Bambi looked up and saw him staring at her from the opposite wall like he was...scared of her. She felt the worry and panic well up, her stomach twisting into knots. She could feel herself shaking slightly, but could not quell the slight tremors. "What," his voice had dropped an octave. "What did you say?"

"I-I'm...I'm pregnant," Bambi whimpered, and then he was gone. She sobbed and suddenly tears flooded out of her eyes. What had she done


	24. Chapter 24

Bambi was left to absolve her own cravings since Crowley had bailed eight days ago. Right now, she was in a little diner in her pajamas and a coat and sneakers. They made the best apple dumplings ever, and they even had homemade French vanilla ice cream. Sweets, sweets, and even more sweets. It was like an orgasm for the mouth, and it was one thing she couldn't seem to get enough of...that and those red velvet funnel cakes. She might just have to get that to-go for later. The staff was kind since she paid very well, and she even talked with a waitress about baby things. For the first time, Bambi was actually excited. She was having a little baby! A person was forming inside her.

When she left, she walked in the cool night air to relax herself. Soon she wouldn't be able to walk without difficulty. As Bambi turned down an alley near a hotel, she was caught off guard. The feeling of a knife stabbing deep into her back several times sent her to the ground. She cried out as she fell, panic and intense pain coursing through her veins as she curled around her stomach.

"Dat is for leavin' me for Crowley!" a female voice barked. Bambi turned to see a short Hispanic woman glaring at her, black ooze dripped from her eye. This wasn't Louise as the name tag said. This was...this was…

"B-Bobby?"

"An' dis is for getting pregnant wit a monster!" she...or he rather, snapped, kicking her in the gut.

Bambi was left there to die. It was getting hard to breathe as blood filled her chest cavity, putting pressure on her lungs and heart. Soon the pressure would make them stop. She didn't want it to end like this…not like this. Blood was seeping from her back too as she struggled to call for help. A couple finally found her and got her help. She begged the EMTs to check on her baby as they strapped her down and shoved a tube into her chest cavity, making blood vacate and release pressure. She never found out before they gave her a sedative.

* * *

"You got what you wanted: Dick's dead, saved the world. So I want one little prophet," Crowley said with a grin. It tightened when he felt his phone vibrate. "Sorry, moose. Wish I could help. You certainly got a lot on your plate right now. It looks like you are well and truly...on your own," he snapped and vanished before opening his phone. "This had better be good."

"Hello, this is Nurse Brunhilda," a female said in an overly-thick Southern accent. "You know a Bambi Leatherby?"

"Why?" his eyes narrowed. What had that bitch gotten herself into now?

"She's been stabbed."

Crowley froze and his grip tightened on his phone. Stabbed? Last time he saw her, she told him she was pregnant. He still needed to think things through on that one; did he honestly want a kid? He already had one, and he hated him. All the same, he felt heat pool in the back of his skull. Whoever did this was as good as dead. Bambi was his to pierce…not some other idiot's. "I'll be there."

It took only five minutes to get there before he was stopped by a gothic woman in a doctor's coat. Crowley inwardly groaned. Dear Lucifer, these types just screamed desperation to every critter on the food chain. "You must be Crowley. I'm Dr. Scout. Ms. Leatherby has been asking for you. She's been given a low dose of pain medication, so she's a bit out of it."

"I'm okay," Bambi's voice mumbled. They must have given her narcotics. That was a bit of an overstatement. She looked like shit. "We're...okay."

"For the most part Ms. Leatherby and the baby are indeed okay," the doctor answered.

"Something's wrong," he said more than asked. His eyes narrowed. He could sense something wrong. He scoffed inwardly at himself. Why did he care? Why the bloody fuck couldn't he stop this caring shit? Damn it.

"Well, starting with the minor injuries, she has a few scratches and scrapes from the fall—nothing major there. She's got a stab wound, internal bleeding, and a massive-and I mean like, ridiculously massive-like size of Texas, black and blue bruise across her stomach. Those will heal normally, but that leads us to the potential problems with the baby."

"Which are?" he droned, sitting on the end of the bed. He didn't really have time for any of this bullshit. This woman dragged news along for too damn long.

"Okay, so the thing is Ms. Leatherby has sustained a lot of abdominal injuries over the years. It should be physically impossible for her to be pregnant," the doctor ranted.

"Tell me about it," Crowley grumbled.

Bambi shifted and tapped his side with her leg. Was that supposed to be a kick? Fuck, they did have her hyped up good.

"So the thing is, your baby is already in a rocky situation. It's trying to survive and grow in an environment that's dealt with some…very serious abuse. On top of the injuries she got today, your baby is in a dangerous situation. The baby is at risk right now; at this point, I couldn't tell you whether or not this child is gonna survive long enough for her to give birth."

Crowley heard Bambi sob once before getting a reign on her emotions. He glared in her direction. Good girl.

"That doesn't mean she's gonna lose the baby," the doctor hastily added. "Just means this isn't going to be the easiest pregnancy ever. She's officially on maternity leave. She and the baby can both be okay; you've just got to fight for it," she concluded, leaving them alone for some privacy.

"Do you even want to fight for it?" she asked.

Crowley sighed and stood. "Maybe I do. Maybe I don't."

"Please, Crowley," she begged. She never sounded so pitiful.

"Fine." She sobbed, and Crowley turned slightly to see her smiling. "I'll be in touch." And with that…he vanished again.


	25. Chapter 25

Kevin had been expecting thumbscrews, or knives, or at least bamboo splinters. As far as torture, Kevin had experienced more suffering than this while deciphering certain thematic elements for his AP English finals. His demon watchers had taken his goo-coated clothes and allowed him privacy so he could take a shower in the shabby workstation of an abandoned factory of some sort. When Kevin got out finding pre-warmed, pajamas waiting for him, he scrutinized them before dressing himself slowly; he wanted to be alone for as long as was possible. There was even a bath robe and slippers. There was also a candy dish on the counter. Clearly they were trying to lure him into a false sense of security…or trying to drug him. It wasn't working.

Two days later, a demon sat him down at a chair and left him there. Kevin heard the sound of boots behind him, convinced it was his torturer about to bore into the back of his neck with some sort of drill. It was actually a lady in her...mid-twenties? She sat a plate down with food piled high, and her eyes didn't flash. Was she...was she human? What was she doing here?! Was she some sort of bargaining chip or maybe even a hostage? "Are you...are you human?"

"Yeah."

"C-Can you stay while I eat?" Kevin asked, desperately. "I haven't had human contact in…a long time," he said, almost getting choked up. It was only two days, but it was the longest two days he'd ever had to experience.

The lady smirked and sat on the table to his left. "Sure, I'm guessing these goons aren't much for chit chat. They never are."

Kevin frowned. "Are you a prisoner?"

"Nope," she said, taking a bread roll. "What made you think that?"

"Y-You mean you stay here of your own free will? W-Why"

"She's my little incubator." Kevin tensed at the sound of Crowley's voice. It was terrifying to watch him stalk over and start twisting a piece of the woman's hair. He was certain he'd snap at any moment to kill her, but the woman seemed unfazed. "Get lost, sweet cheeks. I need to talk with our…guest," he said, and she obeyed him, taking his meal away. Suddenly Kevin felt more vulnerable.

Kevin's heart leapt when he touched the tablet; it felt like being reunited with a missing piece of himself. The glyphs still quaked and made his head pound with the effort of trying to steady them, but that didn't matter to him. He was with the tablet. He was fulfilling his Purpose. This was...like he was Gollum and this was his beloved Precious. Suddenly, the little impish book character didn't seem so insane after all. Kevin was in the same boat. He read for several minutes aloud to Crowley, but he was trying to take his time. Stall...he needed to stall for a little while longer. Surely Sam would come and rescue him. He promised he wouldn't let anything bad happen to him…said he'd get to see his mom again.

When his handlers took him away, Kevin felt at a loss, a yawning ache in his stomach as if he were starving. The room where he slept was oddly warm and comfortable for being the warehouse' old office with stains on the foam-square ceiling and a busted ventilation grate, but Kevin couldn't relax. He wanted…no, he needed the tablet. He was visited again by the woman; she was like some sort of angel in a dark place as she gave him alcohol to settle his frayed nerves. He stared at her bloody cuts and her black eye and gulped back fear. How could she not be a prisoner?

When sleep came, Kevin's dreams were depressing. They were of the bustle of his academic life. They were of what could have been. Crowley's voice was saying a soothing mantra through it all: You can have anything you desire, Kev.

When he next woke, Kevin Tran felt trapped. Claustrophobic. Kevin hated it. They took him to begin translating immediately this time with small breaks in between. Gosh. Just touching the tablet gave him chills. As each day passed him by, he became more and more depressed. He wanted to see his mother. He wanted a change of scenery. The only times he felt a little reprieve were when he could talk to the woman. He'd beg for information...for escape, but she would change the subject and ignore his pleas. Then when he slept, he dreamt of hearing Crowley's voice again and again. Dark. The familiar taste of blood in his mouth. Days of dried sweat course beneath his shirt. Footsteps. They were wearing him down. A knife came close to his face but didn't cut. It just hovered like a wasp. "Let's try this again, Kevin."


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the theory of cell and fetal memory. Check it out.

A little life was swimming about in its amniotic castle of warmth. It was thoroughly enjoying hearing its carrier humming and periodically rubbing against the walls. When she did that, the life would push its foot against the wall and a giggle would interrupt the humming. It was soon becoming a game between them for her to rub and it to press where her hand was. It was fun until she sat down and made the life shift. It didn't like that feeling, so it kicked out in response. It hit something hard and bumpy in her back. Did it have that in it too? Its carrier grunted and started talking about something involving karate. What was that?

It heard its mother humming, and then she began to read. "They came back with viols as big as themselves, and with Thorin's harp wrapped in a green cloth. It was a beautiful golden harp, and when Thorin struck it the music began all at once, so sudden and sweet that Bilbo forgot everything else, and was swept away into dark lands under strange moons, far over The Water and very far from his hobbit-hole under The Hill," she spoke so smoothly. They did this every day as the life grew. It made the life feel safe and content to just float and hear her soft, alto murmur. It hoped they would get to do this more often when she got less busy. "As they sang the hobbit felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through him, a fierce and a jealous love, the desire of the hearts of dwarves. Then something Tookish woke up inside him, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pine-trees and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking-stick."

A door slammed somewhere, and the mother became nervous. She was giving off nervous hormones that made the baby go stock still. When she was nervous, it made the life curl in on itself in an equal amount of nervousness. It began to wail within the womb silently. The cause for the bang was a familiar, deep voice. The life didn't like that voice. It made its mother scared, sad, angry...but it also made its mother happy, in love, and content. It was an odd way of feeling. It could feel her anger bubbling up now. The deep voice was angry and yelling, and soon the mother was too. The life felt her pain and then her rush of pleasure soon after that as well. Then it happened again…more pain and then some pleasure.

This constant crescendo of pain and pleasure finally ended with an overload of pleasing hormones rushing through. The little life bounced and wriggled as it felt the oxytocin in its little body. The little life could hear its mother's heart racing almost as fast as its own. The mother and deep voice were quiet, and then its mother lay down. Again, the little life absolutely did not like that shifting feeling. It had no control; it was scary. It kicked, but this time it hit something squishy. A grunt from the mother sounded as she grew still, and soon she wasn't moving anymore. The little one inside though continued to writhe and squirm even as he felt a large hand rubbing its palace wall. The little life started the game again.

"Settle down, green bean," the deep voice whispered. "You must let your mum sleep, or she'll bitch at me all day. I had a son, but that little bugger was a pain in my ass. Your mum's here to raise you though, so it'll be less rough. I'll sneak in sometimes. Your mum and you...get under my skin. I mean, I'm talking to a fucking stomach after all."

The little life calmed as the voice spoke and a hand settled over its palace. Maybe the deep voice wasn't so bad after all. Maybe the deep voice was a good voice. It made its mother feel safe, so maybe it should trust her instincts.


	27. Chapter 27

"Bambi," Crowley growled against Bambi's skin. He trailed his fingers across her chest and down her sides.

One of her hands threaded through his short hair, tugging lightly. "Stop it," she mumbled sleepily. "I'm tired. You wore me out last night."

"No," he said, going back to his work on her body. "I don't want to, sweet cheeks." Crowley dipped his head into her neck, biting sharply until he drew blood. His skin was extremely hot, but Crowley knew Bambi enjoyed the contrast between their temperatures. He rolled Bambi onto her back, settling between her slender legs. Crowley allowed her hands to sweep over his thighs and up his back as he bit her and scratched her soft porcelain skin.

His mouth trailed down, over Bambi's clavicle and to her breasts. They had yet to swell, but he knew they would soon enough swell with milk. He couldn't wait for that. He dropped a light kiss to each of her nipples. The hand in his hair gripped tighter, eliciting a hiss, but it was a hiss of pleasure rather than pain. He was quite the sadomasochist. Moving on from her chest, Crowley finally reached his destination. Bambi's stomach had just begun to show signs of pregnancy, protruding moderately from the rest of her body. The bump had become a source of obsession for Crowley. He seemed unable to keep his hands away from it since its appearance.

"I can't," he growled almost despairingly, closing his eyes at a very sudden rush of arousal. "Stop talking. You'll ruin my moment." He surged up Bambi's body, capturing her lips in a rough, bloody kiss. He could feel the smile on her face. Groaning, Bambi thrust her hips against his.

When Crowley pressed a finger into her, he was pleased to find his female already wet and ready for him. He moved his finger in and out, massaging her inner walls and eliciting the gasps from her dark red lips. "C-Crowley," she moaned dropping her head back onto the pillow with a light thud. As one of her hands fisted his hair, the other raked sharp nails down the broad expanse of Crowley's back, which had him hissing in pleasure once again. He greatly enjoyed the small hints of pain...maybe more than Bambi even. The control was so much nicer for him though.

Once he was sure Bambi was ready, Crowley removed his finger and grasped his member firmly, guiding himself to her entrance. The head bumped against the wet lips, parting them before pushing all the way in one smooth thrust. Bambi moaned loudly at that single action. In the following moments, Crowley stayed still. He couldn't use physical torture while she was pregnant...but that worked just as effectively for both of them.

Bambi took a deep breath as if having him inside her knocked the breath right out of her lungs. "Please," she huffed. "Please, baby, fuck me senseless. Please."

Crowley didn't need encouragement. He pulled out before thrusting back in, repeating the motion over and over again. Keeping the thrusts hard and fast, Bambi was panting harshly in no time, and she had both legs around Crowley's waist as her hands scrabbled for purchase on said King's back and shoulders. They kept up that pace, and soon enough, the room was filled with Bambi's high pitched wailing. Crowley couldn't help but think about how much more difficult this would become as the baby grew. They kept it up for several more minutes before Bambi's entire body stiffened beneath him, and he too found release, shooting his semen into her. Crowley collapsed beside Bambi with a groan. "I'm leaving in a few hours," he said, snapping to get dressed but remaining in bed.

"Huh?" Bambi mumbled drowsily. "But why? How long?"

"A few weeks."

"What?!" Bambi snapped, suddenly wide awake in her anger. "What about me? And the baby?"

"You'll manage," he grumbled. Fuck, he hated her constant nagging.

"What about the appointment? You promised me, Crowley! You promised on the-"

Crowley rolled his eyes and knocked her out even though he promised never to do that to her with the infant either. Oops. He supposed he'd take the blame for that when she woke up in her bitch phase. "Never trust a demon…or anyone else for that matter, sweet cheeks. You know better," he said before vanishing from the bedroom.


	28. Chapter 28

"It's just you and me, Scrappy. Time to find out what you are. I'm thinkin' you're a boy, but Ada thinks you'll be a girl," Bambi said, rolling her eyes. Bambi sat alone in the doctor's office, lying on the patient table waiting for the ultrasound tech to arrive. "You gotta be a boy though, cuz me and Ada made a bet. I get a wedding ring if you're a boy, but if you're a girl," she paused. "I have to...to give you up," her eyes watered over. "Just please be a little boy. Please."

She hurriedly wiped her eyes as the ultrasound tech walked in. She was a really young British woman, wearing glasses and an easy smile. It comforted her just a little bit despite the stakes. "Hello, Ms. Leatherby," she said, smiling as she closed the door and walked across the room to the machinery. "I'm Nancy, and I'll be your technician."

"Nice to meet you," Bambi said, clearing her throat of the rest of her sorrowful emotions.

"Now, how are you feeling?" she asked, taking a seat and turning on the ultrasound machine. Bambi's thin medical file was perched on her lap.

"I'm alright."

"It says in your chart that you got hurt a while ago. Have you experienced any pain or injury since?"

"No, I haven't. That was just a minor accident."

"Swelling of the hands or feet?"

"My ankles. My knees hurt like a son of a bitch."

"Have you felt the baby move at all?" she asked, scribbling away.

"All the time," Bambi chortled. "I'm convinced the little thing has taken up karate classes."

"Well, it's time to find out what you're having," the tech replied, rubbing cool gel on her stomach.

"Fuck, that's cold!" she yelped, nearly jumping out of her skin.

Nancy giggled and pressed the sensor gently against Bambi's stomach, turning to look back at the screen. "Let's see if we can hear a heartbeat." Bambi nearly screamed in the woman's face in rage. She didn't want to hear the damn heartbeat! She wanted to know if she could keep her baby. She froze though at the sound of a heartbeat. She sobbed, overwhelmed with emotion. Nancy handed her a tissue, probably thinking it was just hormones. If only she knew the truth of her current position in the future of the baby. "And here...is your baby. It seems to be in excellent shape," Nancy's eyes focused on the tiny squirming figure. "I'll make sure to print multiple pictures," she said, smiling. "Would you like to know what you're having?"

"Yes," she said, almost frantically. "Hell yes."

"Well it seems you're having a…"

* * *

Bambi was in tears, holding her face in her hands when she suddenly felt something as someone entered the room. It was that feeling she got in the presence of demons. "Hello, sweet cheeks."

Bambi looked up to see Nancy had returned, but Crowley possessed her. She could see him in her, and her eyes flashed bright red like blood. There was no denying who that was. Bambi sniffled and watched as Crowley perched himself on the stool with a serious look. He knew why she was in tears most likely…or maybe he didn't. He handed her another tissue; she had already gone through five. "W-What's going o-on?" she asked, hiccuping for air as she tried to calm down. "Why-"

"Kevin escaped and hexed me so I couldn't teleport. My usual body is currently tucked away on a fucking goat farm," he snarled. "So I decided to pop by like this. So...who won our bet?" he asked with a smug-looking grin.

Bambi searched his eyes. "Can't you search her memories?"

"I wanted to hear you say it, sweet cheeks," he said, taking her hand. He squeezed it...as if he was comforting her. He knew how much this bet had hurt her when he made it angrily over the phone while he was away. "So what is it?"

"Well, it's healthy. And I got audio and pictures," Bambi said, wiping her eyes as she slowly calmed, a smile on her face. "It's...it's a boy," Bambi said smiling as new tears were spilling out. "Oh Crowley," she wept, sobbing as he held her. He was now sitting on the table with her. "It's a boy!"

Crowley pulled away smirking. He put on a black ring band, and then he slid an identical black band on her. Hers, however, had red rubies in it. She stared at him in shock. "I was going to do this anyway," he said, looking embarrassed. "You...you deserve it. Bambi, I-I...I love-"

"I know, Crowley," Bambi said, stopping him from continuing. "I know. You don't have to tell me or anything."

Crowley smiled and grabbed her arms tightly, painfully. Bambi opened her mouth to protest, and that's when he did it. He rammed his mouth onto hers, shoving his tongue in as well. He was being quick as he pushed Nancy's manicured fingers between Bambi's legs. Bambi shoved her back and wiped her mouth. "Fucking shit, Crowley. What the Hell was that for?!"

"Hot married sex," he said in his Scottish voice. "Now c'mere."

"No. No, Crowley. I don't swing like that...just no. We can do this when you get back home. Get out of my shirt, damn it!"

He scowled like a petulant child, made worse by the pink lip gloss Nancy wore. "Fine." Then he-and Nancy-just vanished. Fuck. She just hoped Nancy would be okay after all that. She could never show her face to that hospital again. That was certain.


	29. Chapter 29

Bambi and Crowley were sitting on the couch in Crowley's new home in Switzerland. Bambi was busy reading a new Ted Dekker book, and Crowley was reading over a new draft for deal contracts. "Adolph."

Bambi looked up with a raised eyebrow. What the Hell was he talking about? "What about Adolph? He your new man-crush or something?"

"I was thinking about the name...for the brat. We know it's a boy."

Bambi rolled her eyes. "Of course you'd think of that communist. Out of every available communist...you pick him."

"And what, pray tell, is that supposed to mean?"

"That you might have a bit more of an obsession than you let on. I'm pretty sure everyone else would think it was a bromance."

"Oh, please," he snorted, sitting the draft on the floor and making a drink appear in his hand. "Fine, then. What do you suggest?"

"I always liked the name Robert," she said with a devilish grin.

"Fuck no! I wouldn't even name dog shit Robert."

A bit taken aback by the vehemence of his response, Bambi nodded. She didn't realize he was that jealous of Bobby. She was only joking after all. "All right...that's out the window. Alphonse?"

"No. What about Ignacio?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Hmm...doesn't feel right. Marian?"

"Balder."

"Balthazar."

"No way in Hell. Hal?" he offered.

"Maybe...Cain?"

"Isaac."

Bambi groaned in frustration; this was going to take a while. "Deacon."

"No. Religious. Names," he snarled. "What about Rory?"

Bambi giggled raised an eyebrow. "A bit too "Doctor Who." I know, it originally came from Europe, but the "Doctor Who" series made it popular."

"Fine then. Johan or something."

"He's not Hispanic...or even Arabic. Oh! What about Alex?"

"You're so racist, sweet cheeks. And Alex is trite and overdone. What about Devil?"

"Seriously? You just said nothing religious," she deadpanned. "No." She racked her brain. "Ferdinand?"

"Oh fuck no...Fergus."

She stared at him, finally putting down her book. "Crowley...we are not naming our child Fergus. Might as well call him Crowley Jr."

"What's wrong with that?" Glaring and dangerously close to entering a full on I'm-pissed-off level, Crowley grumbled: "Cenric. Why not Cenric?"

Bambi thought about it. Then she smiled and laid her head on his shoulder. "Cenric... I like that. It sounds unique but sophisticated at the same time. Now...what about a middle name?"

"Are you suggesting that we have to go through that bloody shit again?" Crowley groaned. "I'll need another drink."

Bambi giggled. "Fair enough. How does Cenric Hallister sound?"

"Why not," Crowley shrugged.

Bambi smiled cuddled into his warm side. The guy was a fucking sauna from all that time he spent in Hell. "I like it," she murmured; the baby decided at that moment to kick. Bambi grabbed her husband's hand and placed it on her abdomen where he moved. "Guess he likes the name too." She grinned; then she spoke to their son. "Hello, my little man. How about another one just for Ada?"

There was a long pause and then an impressive kick. "Aren't you a strong little bugger? Just like me, of course," there was another flurry of kicks and movement that made Bambi giggle. Crowley pressed a kiss to her cheek then kept kissing as he moved to her neck, kissing and sucking harshly as he rubbed her belly. The baby kicked again. She hummed appreciatively and shuddered as she felt his mouth on her cool skin, turning her head as best she could to place kisses to the side of his face. Crowley chuckled. "Are you always this forward, bitch?"

"Only with you," she purred. "My King."

"Ah," Crowley smirked. "Trying to get in my trousers, eh? And what is a King...without his consort?"


	30. Chapter 30

"Crowley?"

The King of Hell turned away from his work and to his...wife. "What is it now?"

"Do you think you'd be able to deliver the baby here?"

"I suppose so. Why?" he asked as he began to start reading again.

"Because I think my water just broke."

Crowley froze and looked up at her sharply. "Are you having contractions?"

"Yes. They're lasting about a minute and there's four minutes in between."

"Fuck," Crowley stood up abruptly. "And how long has this been going on?"

"Started last night. I thought they were just...y'know, Braxton Hicks."

"You are impossible, you know that?" he snapped at her, biting the inside of his cheek. "You would do it this way, wouldn't you? No sticking to the plan for Bambi Leatherby."

"I didn't make the blizzard!" she snapped back. He couldn't teleport them either. Not with the baby. It was too big of a risk. "No magic until the baby's out."

Crowley rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. I won't."

"Forgive me if I don't find your cocky confidence reassuring."

"There's the nervous mum again," he chided, walking up and flicking her nose and making her yelp. "You're going to be okay with all natural," he offered as he lifted her into his arms and carried her down to his playroom. He laid her on the table and got his scalpel and other tools. He wasn't going to let her die like his other incubator in his human life. Not again. Bambi sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut. Crowley pressed a hand to her belly and felt the muscles crunching. He sighed and ran fingers through her hair, which was becoming damp with sweat.

Bambi panted and smiled. "You're not...not getting soft...on me...on you?"

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Fuck no, I'm choosing to be gentle. This is my Prince about to be born, you know," he said as he arranged pillows behind her head and back.

Bambi's voice was a soft, breathless whimper. "Crowley?"

"Let me have a look before you push," he said, pushing the hem of her shirt up over her belly, and Bambi struggled to draw her legs back.

"Fuck, you're practically crowning."

Bambi glared as angrily as she could manage. "I could have told you that, if you'd listened, asshole!"

"Push now," Crowley said, though Bambi hardly needed prompting, and she bore down hard, letting out a scream. "You're getting close, sweet cheeks." Several more contractions came and went. Bambi pushed mightily through all of them, and made steady progress, slow as it was. Finally she made a pained sob at the height of one contraction. "You're almost there," Crowley said as she continued to push. "Just a bit more."

"How close?" she gasped, as the contraction ended.

"Just one more push," he said, sweating almost as bad as she. His thoughts suddenly became of his other woman. Crowley didn't think he could handle raising another infant alone...didn't think he could live without her there. She rested for the minute her body gave her, and then curled up and pushed with everything she had left. She groaned; the skin slowly stretched, more and more and more, and then the head moved down. "That's it, keep pushing," he breathed, freeing an ear, a nose, another ear, and finally, "The head is out," he wiped the tiny face with a towel, trying to clear the airways. Bambi moaned as she continued to push. Crowley freed the shoulders, and she whimpered and went limp as the rest of the baby emerged.

The tiny thing in his hands coughed, then opened its mouth and let out a tiny, feeble cry. Crowley looked up at Bambi, who looked as tired as he'd ever seen, but her eyes were bright. "H-How is he?"

Crowley smiled and laughed—actually laughed. He couldn't believe he actually had...had a son. The idea that he shouldn't be ecstatic was nowhere to be found. He didn't remember having this feeling when his other son was born. He wrapped the infant in a clean towel before placing it in her arms. He cleaned him with a damp cloth, and then watched as Bambi cuddled the baby. A few minutes later helped with the afterbirth before finding a clamp and cutting the umbilical cord. Then he watched as she freed a breast from her shirt and fed his...their son. Bambi smiled at Crowley, and he schooled his expression.

"Hello, Cenric...my darling."


	31. Chapter 31

Bambi had gone to bed several hours ago. Crowley couldn't really blame her; she was still pretty fucking tired after the birth two days before. Hell, even he was exhausted from that little fiasco. A baby's cry split the silence, and the only half-asleep King of Hell picked it up before Bambi ever did. That bitch could sleep through the fucking apocalypse. He turned to pick up her phone from under her pillow. "Three in the morning, doesn't he have any bloody sense of time?" he grumbled.

Crowley rose and left the room, closing the door behind him. He walked down the hall and stopped at the door to his son's room that Bambi had long ago renovated. He could still hear his lackeys bitching about how bossy she was. They had no bloody idea. Crowley opened the door and was assaulted by noise, his son was crying as loud as his little lungs would let him. Typical of someone with Bambi's genes. Maybe what worked with her would work with his son as well. "Silence!" he roared over the top of the screams, but that did nothing except scare him more. Maybe not...Fuck.

Crowley sighed and leaned over the cot and picked his son up. He awkwardly held him against his chest and started to rub his back like he saw Bambi doing. He turned, looking for something to take his mind off the screams and found a rocking chair. He sat with a sigh and heard his phone going off in his pant pocket. As the ringtone drifted out of his pocket, combined with the gentle rocking, Cenric finally began to calm and settle into his father's chest. When it stopped, the infant started to cry again. Crowley fished out his phone and turned on music. Again, Cenric began to calm; Crowley hadn't been so relieved about anything in his entire life.

As he held his son, he realized just how small he was. He grimaced as he was beginning to feel himself bond with the tiny baby in his arms. He closed the door telepathically. He didn't need anyone to see him getting this…domestic. He cringed at the term. Suddenly he was smacked by a tiny hand; yep, definitely his mother's son.

When he was sure his son was asleep, Crowley rose from the rocking chair, placed Cenric gently back in the cot and quietly crept out of the room and back to his own a few doors down the hall. When he got back into bed, Bambi woke up and rolled over to him. "What was wrong?" she inquired sleepily as she snuggled up to against him.

"Nothing," he replied as he wrapped his arm around her.

"Bullshit."

"Just needed…needed some company."


	32. Chapter 32

Bambi winced as she sat down and sifted through the massive pile of papers sitting on her desk. Dear Hades, it would take her for fucking ever to get through all of this damn paperwork. After two short months of maternity leave, Crowley was practically begging to have his secretary back. She was begging him to shut up, so she came back. He firmly believed that every other demon he hired was just a mindless twit. He was right about the mindless twit thing but...maybe it wouldn't have been so awful if Bambi hadn't sabotaged them all. Hey, she could be jealous for some sort of worship from her husband, right? It felt good to be back in Hell; it felt like coming home.

Down in the floor, Cenric slept in a bassinet, sound asleep. He was still so tiny and adorable. He'd always be adorable though because he was her little man. He had a small tuft of curly black hair and a pair of big green eyes. Cenric got his nose, lips, and hair from Bambi. He had Crowley's meatsuit's eyes, toes and skin tone. He couldn't be any more beautiful than if he were an angel in its true form. He was absolutely perfect. Even Crowley said he was handsome before saying it was all because of his meatsuit's good genes. Cenric whimpered, trying to squirm in his swaddling. He'd need to be fed soon.

"What's with the kid?" a female voice asked.

Bambi jumped as she turned, nearly grabbing her knife to attack until she noticed the demon obviously meant no harm. Fuck, she was jumpy. She sighed and turned to face the demon; though it was male, it resided in a plump Asian woman. She looked kind of familiar. The meatsuit looked to be college age, and the demon's eyes were black. What did he want? "None of your business," she said curtly. "May I help you? Or are you just wasting space?"

"King wanted t'see me," it said. "Said that we got a mission."

"A mission?" Bambi asked, eyes brightening with a sudden fire.

Sweet mother of sin, Crowley had a mission available! It had been months since she'd had any kind of opportunity to go on a mission with or without Crowley. With was better. They could get some sexy time. It was hard to get that with the baby now. Ever since she got knocked up, Crowley never even said the term "mission" around her. She knew it was for her protection, but good grief! Her hands were itching to hold her knives and gun-her tools of the trade. Maybe she could convince him to let her come along with him as an...an observer. Yeah, he'd never believe any of that. Even she didn't believe it. Especially if it came from her mouth. Obviously, if he was actually going to bring a black-eyed lackey along with him, it wasn't that big a job.

"Give me a few minutes to talk to him. He may be busy," Bambi said, picking up Cenric. She didn't trust that demon enough to leave her baby alone. Said baby whined and let his head drop on her shoulder; it was too heavy for his tiny muscles. Bambi smiled as she walked in, not even knocking, and saw Crowley drinking behind his desk.

"Hello, sweet cheeks...tricks. Fancy seeing you two. I was just about to call you in for a chat. Take a proverbial load off."

"Why?" Bambi asked sitting and letting Cenric sprawl out on her chest as she reclined. "Because you were gonna let me come on the mission? If that's it, I'd love to come."

Crowley sighed. "No, Bambi."

"Why the Hell not?" she snapped. "Am I not good enough now that you've gotten what you wanted from me!"

Crowley slammed his hands on his desk and stood stock still. A rage flooded into his eyes that she hadn't seen in many, many years. Oh shit. Shit, shit, shit. "Am I the only fucking one who's thinking about tricks here?!" he roared, pinning Bambi into the chair. He smacked her. "Stop being the selfish bitch you are, and think about someone other than yourself! Fuck! I'm a demon and I care more than you!" he snarled at her. Cenric wailed and Bambi was released from being pinned down. Crowley sighed and sat. "Do you know why I'm doing this, bitch?"

"Yeah," Bambi said softly, calming the infant in her arms. "You love me...you don't want to be alone with a baby. I'll send the girl in."

"That's my girl," he said, smacking her ass as she left.


	33. Chapter 33

Crowley's feathered touch against her skin was worse than any lash from the whips he used on her; he knew this from the look on her face. Her whispered breath from soft, full lips sounded nearly tragic as she groaned into the sex-scented air. He was darkness incarnate, and she was the light that illuminated a bleak place in him with her touch, subtle scent and her ability to do good. She knew she disgusted him to the point of turning tail and running; he did it from time-to-time. "Do I scare you?" he growled at her slyly.

"Yes," she purred. "In the best way."

She was the one battle he had refused to not fight. Yet there were times he wanted nothing more than to wrap his fingers around her neck and snap it until her luminous blue eyes could not navigate through his mind, and yet never did he dare touch her with such intent. He got close though; they both loved it when he did. He lavished her with a searing passion that blazed like a flame of Hell itself. He could hear her heart beat beneath him as he stirred that seed of evil rooted within her…that he spawned. She knew he wanted to water it with bloodshed and loss and watch as it bloomed. Instead he held her in his arms as she sighed beneath his touch.

She smiled. "Do you regret me, my King? Or do you regret Cenric more?" It was the one insecurity she had.

He smirked devilishly at her, delighting in the fact that he caused her as much grief as she had him. "Neither." Her smile brightened. He had tried to shut her out before. Push her away...and she sobbed for him. She'd never know how her tears burned him like flames and how he wondered when he had become so weak. "Don't," he growled softly in warning.

"Why?" She questioned knowingly, a familiar smirk playing on her lips. Undeterred by his warning, she placed her palms against his chest and trailed them against his skin. She traced the planes of his body as if she were crafting him.

"Bambi," his second warning became smothered as she kissed him. All she did was nod, her eyes focused intently on his body. Her tongue darted out and his cock twitched in response.

"No," she purred.

How he had become to grow so fond of domestic life? He had never had something to call his own since he was taken from his human form, and yet here she stood, denying all that he was and embracing him as if he were her salvation…her lifeline. Fuck, it was disgusting. In a moment of dark humor, Crowley ran his large palms down her back, reveling in her shudder as his tongue devoured and squirmed into her mouth. He sucked at her and his palms curved around her, pressing her center into his erection.

Bambi lifted her leg, her lush thigh touching his hip, as she rubbed herself against him trying to seek relief. Crowley grabbed the ends of Bambi's nightshirt and ripped it. He trailed his finger along the center of his female's body as she sucked in a ragged breath. When she became mindless with want, her body melting and compliant, he grabbed Bambi by her arms and flung her onto the bed, her back towards him, and roughly gripped her ankles. He pulled her harshly so she slid towards him. With one powerful thrust his cock was embedded deep within her from behind, and Bambi cried out. She heard his muffled growl and tried to move away from him. "Are you scared, bitch?"

"Y-Yes." She could not hold the shiver of pleasure she felt at his touch while his rough hands moved over her. He slapped her backside hard and she rocked against his cock. The movement caused a falling sensation to shoot though her. Crowley thrust with a single minded determination. "Fuck." She rubbed herself against him, rocking back and forth as she used her hands to keep her from falling. Her efforts earned her another slap against her ass.

She felt him quicken his pace and she felt herself reaching the pinnacle of release. Screams and groans, grunts and moans danced with the candlelight in the dark room. Crowley left her not too much later, giving her and Cenric a goodbye kiss after they were asleep. If he'd known what would happen during his business with the Winchesters…that he'd be almost human for a little while...Crowley would have said it to her face. To both of them.

_I love you..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end.  
> Be on the lookout for a sequel in the future!


End file.
